Final Fantasy VII Crisis Core: The Novel
by Team Wingless
Summary: The Unauthorized tie-in novel for the videogame CRISIS CORE, with original lore and an alternate ending. [Book I in the CRISIS Tryptic]
1. Chapter 1 - Shinra

Terminal velocity, rotor wash seared in his vox-com. He waited like a coiled spring, gaze focused, jaw taught, knees pinched together holding his bladder. This was it…

"_Kssshhhh Wutai troops have taken over Midgar City's main reactor. SOLDIER blackop Zack Fair will be low-jumped into the hotzone on my mark…"_

The com blared in crash-static, and blood rushed to his head.

"…_3…2…1…MARK."_

Zack flowed into combat-mode. The chopper door opened as a rush of aggressive wind slammed him back. He gripped the doorframe, swallowing a lump in his throat, when a huge hand fell on his shoulder.

"Don't look down," said the big man it belonged to, with dark eyes that scrutinized his technique, his composure, his body-posture, and his _Jump_ Materia. Zack winced up at him with the same shaded hue in his Mako-infused irises. All SOLDIER's had those neon-cyan eyes.

The answer to Zack's glare came as a boot-kick to the back. His mentor leapt out of the chopper after him.

Zack whirled in a catalytic vertigo, his stomach turning in a G-force knot. Cerulean sheerfractus sliced at his navy battle fatigues. At least his sword was strapped tight to his back. The blue null of the sky was a saleen supercell swirling to swallow him whole, a crystal aphelion splayed against the luminous night. He fell through umbral nothing at terminal velocity in terror, until an image flashed before his eyes, and he was no longer in this world's sky…

…He saw her wreathed in a hue of emerald, lithe and airy with hair like silky tidal waves. Ringed in a paraselene glow, she gazed at him like she'd been waiting for someone for a long time. He hung suspended in a subliminal stasis, darkness thick like molasses in a netherworld that engulfed them. She held out her hand to him…and disappeared.

He still reached for her as he toppled over and over back in the sky, stretching his body out prone in an aerodynamic fan. Coalescence ripped at his psyche, but somehow he found his equilibrium and stopped spinning.

The ground blurred into focus on an abandoned junkyard, a bonepile of scrapmetal the City called "The Train Graveyard." His training held, a slow count back from ten to keep time quelled his nerves.

_10...9...8..._

When he hit a low number, he threw his feet under him, and his Materia crystal glowed—a piezoelectric orb that fused with his aura. He landed crouched on his toes like a lynx, not an ounce of impact thanks to the ability orb. Behind him, his mentor hit standing, not needing to crouch to absorb impact—he'd done the _Jump_ correctly.

Together, they stole into the industrial railyard. Decommissioned aerotrain cars lined out in sad rank and file. Dead quiet, with the dusty tinge of burnt copper filtering through their nostrils, they prowled like feral cats through impromptu scrap corridors.

Zack's foot tripped a wire, and spotlights burst down on the two operators. _Ambush_. Wutai sentries leapt from over train cars and junk piles dressed in black stealth-camo. The big man shoved Zack on.

"Go kid! Your time to shine!"

Zack loped like a wolf straight for the mass aggregation of enemy combatants, drawing his longsword in a shining crescent sheen. This was his time, his ticket out of reserve status and into 1st Class ranks. 1st Class meant Active Duty, Green Team, door-kickers, first in and last out. That was going to be Zack if it killed him. All set, here goes nothing…

He hopped off a lead foot, stabbed through a chest plate and whipped his sword back before his feet touched dirt. Riding the momentum, he leapt in a spiraling elliptical twirl that sent a ring of troops flying like marbles. He landed back in fighter's stance, sword gripped tight in both hands.

Gunfire erupted at his flank. Bullets shattered a floodlight down on him, leaving tiny cuts across his pale face and peppering his black hair. No fear, no time. His sword came down to slice a rifle in half, then up-rushed to slice its trooper in half. He danced a sword-ballet all over the junkyard, his blade flowing about like the edging of a screw, until they all lied twitching in the twilight.

Zack's vox-com vibrated. He whipped it out like a switchblade.

"_They've started the self-destruct sequence. Get there and enter the abort code before it blows."_

Zack hung up and sprinted toward the Reactor.

Mako Reactor 1 powered the Shinra Electric Company's Headquarters, smack in the middle of Midgar City. The entire metropolis was built on top of a floating grid wholly controlled by the international energy mogul, which was the leading supplier of Magnesium Cobaltite in the developed world—_Mako_. How the city hadn't exploded from the mining fumes was a miracle. They had to practically tow-line the Plate to the ground to keep it from floating away.

SOLDIER was Shinra's elite security wing, tasked with keeping all operations safe. Too bad terrorists like Wutai had other ideas that SOLDIER's wouldn't see eye-to-eye on. So what if farmlands shriveled into dustpools during the strip-mining, and so what if Reactor 1 didn't even power any residential areas? If that hub went, the entire army went with it. Zack broke his quarter-mile time getting there.

The Reactor Compound was a massive thermal generator geared-out in gyroscopes and guard railings. Steam stacks and glowing pylons reared like electrified Tesla rods. Zack didn't think he'd make it through unchallenged, and was right.

Rogue thugs encroached on both flanks. His sword flew into action, singing a hyperslash powerballad dubbed to a speed-metal track in his head. He power-slashed through their detachment like he was playing hockey, but they kept coming.

Bulletspray to his left—Zack toppled into a sweeping dive roll. A slug struck millimeters from his hand, he felt the heat of its flash powder on his fingertips and lurched his arm back. Reacting, he launched at the gang-banger with the piss-poor aim, up-slashing, cross-slashing, and windmill-slicing to slam him to the ground. When he looked up, all enemies had been neutralized.

_Conflict Resolved._

He rested his sword on his shoulder, letting his guard down for a split second, until an edge of cerulean steel slit his earlobe.

A cold voice.

A deep voice.

"Never turn your back to an enemy…" velveteen darkness regarded him in a calm storm of syllables. "Overconfidence will destroy you."

Zack froze at the death-ring of a daikatana that grazed his cheek from behind, banishing his confident rouse to reveal a _kid_— a twenty-something rookie with pierced ears and boots that weren't dirty yet. He turned in a cloud of shame to face his mentor, and gasped when he saw it wasn't his mentor standing there.

A tall figure like a living star stood in his wake, the sharp face of angelic darkness marred in the pale pallor of death. With hair like silver comet tails streaking down to his boots, he was the most malefic image of malevolent beauty Zack had ever beheld in his life.

That deadly daikatana streaked for him like stars. Zack flayed his sword up to cover while the beautiful man whipped his blade sidelong in slitting one-handed swipes. Zack whirled his arms at cerulean cured metal that screamed for him in razor slashes.

He cross-slashed with all his might at the man, and Zack's sword shattered. Time seemed to end in that endless second of stasis, a moment held in suspension somewhere between life and death. Zack's heart beat in his ears, all of his hopes and dreams played before him like a black-and-white theatre. A phenomenal arc-slash from the daikatana leered for the kill, but Zack found his broken sword crossed in front of him, blocking it.

The big man—Zack's mentor—shoved the malefic figure back with Zack's blade.

"GO!" he yelled at Zack, who scampered off like a streetkid up the metal-cleated steps of the Reactor. Inside was a giant nuclear fission chamber with a control panel board over the mineshaft. Zack clamored up to it as smoke steamed from overheating vents. The self-destruct countdown had begun.

Zack fumbled his fingers over the keypad, biting down on his tongue until he remembered the abort code. He muttered it out loud, typing as fast as growing up on AIM Messenger had taught him to.

_Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, start…_

He hit ENTER and threw his hands up.

…The entire facility exploded into flaming apocalypse.

Then, tone-outs. The walls around them stuttered and glitched, fading in a pixelated rain. The simulation test _BLACK BELT _short-circuited back to dark matter algorithms, leaving the two operators in a blank grey training room.

Zack ran up to his mentor with a panicked expression, who stood with his arms crossed.

"You typed the abort code in backwards, Zack."

Blank stare. Zack didn't get it.

"The abort code is the self-destruct code backwards," his mentor explained.

Still no expression.

"What did you type in, Zack?"

_Now_ an iota of understanding lit up behind Zack's eyes. He held a finger in the air, a big smile crossing his face, until the realization hit. He wiped that smug grin straight off.

The big man pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan, while Zack stood there shuffling his foot.

"I'm sorry, Zack, but I can't recommend you for 1st Class."

The words hit like a freight train, an electric shock straight to Zack's rocked core. He took a desperate step forward, to which his mentor held up the broken sword, leering like the shining example of his botched mission.

"Zack…" the big man bore into his student, who held in burning tears. "If you want to be a _First_, you need to have honor."

Zack wouldn't look up to meet his gaze. It was just like a kid to have trouble accepting responsibility for his missteps. He could see the self-destructive tinge smoldering in his student's eyes, telling him he was no hero, just a dreamer.

The tall stallion of a man strode past him, adding something as he opened the simulation field door.

"…and dreams."

Zack looked up as his mentor left the training room, leaving him to mull over this day's lesson. But as the leaded sheet-glass doors slid shut automatically, his own waking dream came back to him in monochrome.

He didn't see the technovoid of hologram pattern-cameras that projected visual stimulus for rookies to practice in—had they malfunctioned? Nor did he discern the radial-mirrors that looped movement-feedback to the simulations computers lined along the walls, for a moment he didn't see his stats projected onto the overhead monitor showing he'd garnered _Zero Stars _for this training mission.

All he saw were her eyes.

.

[Received Potion]


	2. Chapter 2 - Zack Fair

Zack Fair, 2nd Class SOLDIER, 1st Class screwup, royal dillweed extraordinaire.

He'd been a member of the elite paramilitary unit for less than a year, and already he'd busted three carbon-fiber field swords, two laser-sighted assault rifles, one cellphone, and a partridge in a pear tree. No one could figure out how he did it. He had a natural talent for being a talentless wrecking ball.

They'd bumped him up from a 3rd—_thank god_—and assigned him to a senior member of SOLDIER for mentoring. Angeal Hewely was a hardened war veteran, a member of the famed trio known as the Silver Elite with a reputation that rumored him his own fan club.

The Silver Elite were the cream of the crop, special operators tasked with secret missions and high-profile assassinations, and Angeal was one of the best. Zack was ecstatic to be working with him—for about an hour. The man stepped up to fill a role Zack's father had apparently neglected, _disciplinarian._

When Zack was late, he got the longest lectures of his life. Angeal harped on him about his honor, his sworn word that he gave when he signed up for SOLDIER to be the best he could be, a sacred oath that should extend to everything he did in life from protecting his friends in battle to tying his boot laces to being on time for work.

"How can being two minutes late be dishonorable!"

"Count 'em out." Angeal waved him off.

Zack sighed and started squatting. "1…2…3…"

Angeal came down hard on his new student, he was a man of stern principals and iron resolve. He held his word second to nothing, the kind of man who stood on ceremony and expected the same from those around him. As if being run into the ground on a daily basis wasn't enough for Zack, Angeal demoted him to his _dog_.

"This is my new puppy, Zack," he'd say as he introduced him to other higher-ups with hands on his shoulders. "I just picked him up from the pound. I'm training him to be a fighter, but I've barely got him off using puppy-pads."

Zack slumped. Even his humanity had to be earned.

That _training _was nothing short of hellish. Angeal would spar with him for hours in the Training Room until he literally couldn't lift his sword, and then they'd go rounds hand-to-hand since his weapon became too heavy. Zack rocked a two-hander longsword—because he was "tough" and could handle it. So Angeal never let him put it down. If Zack was going to carry it then he was going to carry it. After all, Angeal had to carry _his sword._

_His Sword._

His sword was a family heirloom, a tungsten carbide devil cleaver with a torso as big as Zack, a ball-bashing Buster Sword. Zack watched him cleaning the thing, thinking he'd never loved a woman the way he loved that sword. Weirdo.

There were days when it just got to be too much though, the enduring grind too hard and frustrating. Zack would throw his sword across the training room and sit on the floor fuming at himself, wondering if he would ever get the hang of things, wondering if he was even cut out for SOLDIER to begin with.

"Hey," Angeal would crouch down to his level, an even tone in his voice. "You followed your dreams. You made it here. You deserve to be here, and when I'm through with you you're going to make a lot of people proud."

Those anecdotes had been coming more and more frequent lately, and after being deprived of humanity for so long, he only needed one kind word to jolt him back to his feet with a mad energy to please. Small jokes had been being exchanged, little ribbing insults in good fun, and Zack felt himself pining to be in his mentor's good graces...which is why he'd made double certain to be on time for work this day.

Walking through the archologie of the Shinra Headquarters, he stopped surprised upon seeing a familiar silver-haired figure looming in a conference room. The frosted glass affected the translucency of the pane, but there was no mistaking the monolithic man's imposing form and Gunmetal-black non-standard-issue longcoat. Satellites would have trouble mistaking him from outer space.

Zack gaped. _Who was he? _He was one of the Silver Elite, that much was obvious. The appearance of him in the training room had been a simulation but he was even more terrifying in person. Tall and tapered, packed with raw muscle that showed shirtless underneath his Kevlar coat, he leaned against a table with his arms crossed and eyes turned down as if marking the world for death.

Someone else Zack didn't recognized entered to join him. A girl about his age strode over to the big man and clicked her heels together at attention.

…_SOLDIER…?_

Were there even any girls in SOLDIER? Zack hadn't seen any, yet she wore the same pauldrons and two military stripes indicating a 2nd Class. He cocked his head.

_Well, guess so…_

The big man put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her in for a quick hug, and Zack understood. That was _his _student! The way Zack was Angeal's student, this man had one also, and it was a cute girl! He HAD to meet her.

They resumed their serious air and Zack saw the man's lips moving, briefing her on her next mission. She phased to go-mode in a flash as her body went taut, and Zack's body went limp.

A salute, and she walked out of the conference room, _toward Zack!_

She strode with the grace of a panther, a lotus flower in human form. Shards of lilac sheered her brow—short on one side, long on the other—she didn't give two damns what anyone thought about her and wore it on the outside like a mark of pride. A blood-red side-pouch strapped to her thigh, and a blood-stained Gunblade strapped to her back, Zack was halfway to Heaven swooning on hormones and happy-thoughts.

He ran up to her wagging his tail.

"Hiya! I'm Zack, SOLDIER 2nd Cl—"

But she shot him the meanest glare he'd ever received in his life. It threw him back against the wall holding his hands up harmlessly, and she continued on down the hall minding her own business. That silver-haired monolith left the conference room soon after, following stead.

"H-hey!" Zack bounced up to him. The obvious _who are you _question lingered en cue on Zack's painfully short attention span, but a far more immediate one came out first. "That girl. Do you know her? Who is she?"

The man shot him another glare, and Zack knew where she'd learned it from.

"No one _you _need to worry about," he warned in a dark voice, and brushed past him on his way. His black coat flared after him like a train of feathers flowing in his wake.

_Shot down._Twice. Rookie.

Zack sighed as he took the elevator up to SOLDIER wing and coursed down the plain white hallway with his hands in his pockets. An array of company posters lined the corridor, policy listings a mile long in print the size of ants. A minimum wage poster was tacked up with very small numbers in very large font.

_ARE YOU BEING BULLIED AT WORK?_showed a stick figure with a sword poking another crying stick figure.

_SEXUAL HARASSMENT IS NOT OKAY!_warned a poster depicting a lurking SOLDIER stick figure with a Buster Sword creeping up behind a girl stick figure holding flowers.

Another 2nd ran up to him around the corner. He was too distracted to recognize him immediately.

"Zack! What'up yo!"

"_Hrrngg_, hi Kunsel." Zack was so not in the mood to get ragged on, like he knew his old buddy from SOLDIER A-School was definitely going to do. Kunsel fell in step with him.

"I heard you broke a real sword in a simulation field! Whoa! What's it like to destroy company property with your mind?"

"Like being the chosen one, or the savior, or some other really big flashy tongue-lashing target."

"Hah! You seem on edge about it."

"I can't take it! I've been trying for months to make 1st Class. At this rate I'll make active duty by the time I hit retirement." He jumped up grabbing the hallway overhang and did ten pullups, as was the ritual when anyone walked under that thing. Jordie banged his out and they continued down the wing.

"Well at least you're not like those other deserters."

"Huh?"

"Haven't you heard? There's been a mutiny in SOLDIER." Zack stopped dead as Kunsel explained. "One of the 1sts—that crazy one—he took a whole battalion of 2nds and 3rds and jumped ship. Guess they got tired of waiting for a promotion."

"There's three crazy ones and I'm stuck with one of them. There's the big one, the bigger one and the flamboyant one, more specific will'ya?"

"The flamer, yeah. I dunno. Hey are you headed to Briefing?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Maybe they'll tell you there. In the meantime I got a new phone, take my number."

Zack whipped out his phone.

"HAH!" Kunsel nearly choked on his spit. "I'm lovin' the pink!"

"It's not pink! It's plumb!"

"You know I heard corporate assigns the _plumb_ ones to knuckleheads who lost theirs on basic training missions."

Zack grimaced, smoke practically billowing by his ears. "Whatever."

Kunsel called him and Zack saved his number.

"Alrighty, I'll see you later Zack-Attack, email if something comes up."

Zack threw him a two-finger lazy salute and headed to the stairwell. He reached the Director of SOLDIER's office and let himself in.

Inside was a large conference room with a lacquered-rosewood business table equipped with holodecks for each chair. Angeal and another man sat in front of their decks looking over readouts on their screens. The man Zack didn't recognize rose to receive him.

He looked like the kind of guy that came out of a box imported from some exotic foreign country, assembled in a sweatshop by nimble-fingered villagers and displayed on a runway downtown during Fashion Week. His gold hair was freshly permed and smelled of a chemical residue, and his fitted suit suggested a religious preference revolving around a peculiar form of tailor-worship.

"Zack," he smiled, "I've heard a lot about you. Lazard, Director of SOLDIER."

_This_was their Director?

The man extended his hand in that guarded professionalism of business-casual. Zack regarded him, decided he wasn't going to bite, and shook it.

"Yo."

The overhead computer threw a projection onto the big OLED screen above the conference table. Zack saw a mugshot of a rust-haired SOLDIER complete with stats and background intel.

"SOLDIER 1st Class Genesis," said Lazard. "A month ago, he went missing on a mission to Wutai…"

Angeal sat running a hand over jet hair he'd slicked back like an oil spill, eyes fixed on the shot of this mystery man named Genesis.

Lazard pinched his chin. "SOLDIER 1st Class Sephiroth has been dispatched to hunt him down, and he's requested backup. We've decided to send you."

"Uh, who's _Sephiroth_?"

Angeal and Lazard both looked at Zack like he was crazy.

"…The _hero of Shinra_. The bloody harbinger himself. He's been in every major war since you've been born."

"…Oh," Zack replied.

Angeal sighed like he was debating with himself, and had come to a reluctant decision.

"Zack…I've recommended you for 1st Class."

_WHAAAAAAA?!_

Zack beamed, a mad laughter seizing him. He couldn't believe it!

"AHHHHHH! Angeal!" He tackled his mentor in a big bear hug, jumping and shaking with his tail wagging. "Aw I love you, man! Angeal—"

Angeal shoved him off with a huge paw.

"Don't make me change my mind."

Zack stood at attention, a huge stupid smile still on his face.

"Get your gear sorted. We'll leave at 1200 hours. I'm counting on you."

"SIR!" he stood up even straighter, with an even stupider sparkle of triumph in his eyes.

"Zack," Lazard interjected. "SOLDIER's are the best there is. Most only dream of standing where you are now, and as such, I will be ranking you on this next mission personally. If you don't mind me imploring, what is _your _dream, Zack? To become 1st Class?"

"No Sir," Zack struck a melodramatic pose. "To become a hero!"

Angeal face-palmed and Zack winced, cocking his head like a puppy.

"You've got two hours Zack. I'll see you at the helipad."

Zack nodded. He knew the real meaning behind Angeal's instructions was _don't be late this time_. He clicked his heels together, did a full parade-dress turnabout and left the conference room.

_Don't trip don't trip don't trip._

.

[Received Force Bangle]


	3. Chapter 3 - Sephiroth

Angeal and Zack ran like shadows through the knell of thick night, cloaked in that familiar darkness that was friend to all SOLDIER's. They skidded to a halt at a crossroad under a waxing moon, and Angeal took stock of their mission.

"Fort Tamblin is straight ahead. Let's hurry, Bravo Team is standing by."

The deer path the Predator Drone had marked for them wound through dense wilderness. They prowled on soft feet through the shadows when an indigo apple on the ground caught Angeal's attention…There were no apple trees here.

_"…Dumbapples…"_ Angeal muttered.

"Did you say something?" asked Zack.

"Nothing. Nevermind. Let's go."

They came to a pagoda and crouched behind some brush. The Fort.

Angeal scanned the target.

"Bravo Team will blow the front gate. That's our cue. You'll charge the base and earn your rank."

Zack's eyes were alight with excitement. He turned back to the pagoda, using those strategic brain muscles to plan his attack. But ten minutes went by, then twenty, and still no signal.

"_AAAARRRRGGGH._C'mon Bravo Team!" he bounced and fidgeted, energy zigzagging through his taut body.

In a moment of reflection to pass the time, Angeal unsheathed his sword, held it to his forehead in silent prayer, and resheathed it. Zack's eyes implored, his raised eyebrows did the rest.

"You know, I've never actually seen you use that…Don't you think it's sort of a waste?"

Angeal _harrumphed_ . "Use brings about wear, tear, and rust...And that's a real waste."

He said it so matter-of-factly, like he'd pulled it straight from the Webster's dictionary. Zack rolled his eyes.

Then. Explosion. _The signal_.

Angeal shot to the edge of the brush, his gaze whipped back to Zack.

"Go!"

And that one word sent Zack leaping off toward the fort. It was time to go hunting.

Running into the pagoda, two adjacent watch-towers stood on either end of the main gong-tower in front of him. He ninja'd his way up to the roof, crouched down at the edge and took stock of his situation.

An evil grin crept across his face. Four guards, heavily armed. _Good, a challenge._

He dropped right in the middle of their formation. A flying crescent-slash felled all four of them, and a reverse-slash sent them flying. Not bad, two hits.

After he dispatched them, his phone went off. He flipped it to his ear.

"Were you able to get inside?" Angeal spoke from the other line. Zack rubbed the back of his head.

"Well I dunno, she had some issues and wasn't that cute anyway. Figured I'd stay off that on-ramp."

"The fortress, Zack. Focus. Intel says Wutai's greatest warrior is in the Fort, but that can't be because he's been dead for years. It could be Genesis in disguise."

"If I win, do you think I'll make 1st?"

"If you _live_, we'll talk about it."

He clicked on Angeal and ran off to start a fight, bloodlust in his eyes.

Zack proceeded onto the main pagoda, a rock garden complete with cherry blossom trees surrounding its perimeter. He started up the steps to the entrance when a voice stopped him in his tracks…

"_Freeze scumbag!_"

Zack dropped into combat stance. The voice came from ahead.

"_Prepare for trouble, make it double!"_

_Dafuq?_This isn't a video game!

"_Ugly Shinra SOLDIER dudes…must die_!"

A little kid hopped out on top of the steps ready for a good old fashioned beat down, hair cropped short under a dojo bandana and shoelaces left untied.

Zack cocked his head. "Who are you?"

"I'm Wutai's greatest warrior! That's who! If you wanna go further, you have to go through me!"

"A kid…?" Zack stood dumbfounded. "Go home. This is a warzone. It's dangerous here!"

"You're the one who's going home! You come any further, you'll have a fight on your hands!"

"Oh man…what am I supposed to do here?" Zack rubbed the back of his head. It was obvious this _wasn't_his quarry, but now he had to improvise. "Alright kiddo, you got me! Now go tell your parents about how you beat me up!"

"Better yet, I'll show them!"

She ran down the steps and punched him straight in the crotch.

_OOOOOOFH!_

Zack went down cross-eyed as she snagged his Fire Materia and ran away laughing.

"That'll teach you to mess with me! I've brought peace to Wutai!"

_Ohh, it's going to the stomach!_

Zack groaned on the ground in agony for a minute until his phone rang. He knew Angeal was watching from somewhere. He let it go to voicemail, got up, shook himself out, and went back to work.

He ran up the stairs to the pagoda entrance and shoulder-bashed through the doors. Inside was a round arena-like space, devoid of furniture and held up by columns and pillars. But no one else was there.

His phone rang again.

"'sup Angeal?"

"Having _trouble_ Zack?" He could practically feel the smirk in Angeal's voice.

"_No," _Zack grimaced. "It looks like the target fled. There's no one left here."

"Good work. Fall back to the rendezvous spot."

"Understood." He clicked on him and looked around once more, throwing his arms wide in triumphant display. "Hey Director Lazard! Are you watching?"

He started at a trot toward the entrance. "Gonna make First, gonna make First, oh yeah, gonna make First."

Angeal and Zack rendezvoused in a thicket a mile out from the Fort. Lazard was there with two infantrymen escorts. He stepped on something and shook his foot out. The guy wore Gucci and Prada out in the field and complained about it!

"Let's hurry," said Angeal. "Sephiroth and Bravo Team are waiting on the other side."

Zack pricked up. "Sephiroth?"

A whirling sound sliced air as two shuriken struck the infantrymen dead where they stood. Zack and Angeal whipped around as two more shot for them, but Zack drew his sword in a flash batting them back at their assailants, and two Wutai troops fell dead from the trees.

More troops dropped down, surrounding them and closing in. _Ambush_.

Zack rushed in a gallant flourish, adrenaline shooting in electric jolts. He drove his sword through the chest of one trooper, back-stabbed a troop behind him, then spin-slashed in a hyperphonic sword-twirl. He ran to strike another, but they'd all fallen, his body took a moment to come down from the surge. He couldn't stop shaking.

"Zack! Come on!" called Angeal. Zack found him and Lazard studying the bodies he'd rebounded the shuriken at. But more troops rallied from ahead, rushing in arrowhead formation for them. Angeal dropped into combat stance.

"Take the Director to safety," he ordered Zack.

"Call Sephiroth!" ordered Lazard.

"Zack is more than enough. Now go!"

Zack looked back at Angeal once before hurrying away with Lazard.

He bash-barreled through underbrush with the Director in tow. Captain Pretty-boy better have been grateful that Zack was clearing a path for him and his nice clothes while leaving Angeal behind to make due on his own. They reached the helispot where a detachment of Shinra paratroopers waited on standby.

"Go help Angeal!" called Lazard.

But Zack was already racing back the way he came, running like someone else's life depended on it.

He charged down the game trail calling Angeal's name, but there was no response. Angeal was nowhere, yet the two Wutai bodies still laid splayed out like hunted deer. Zack went over to them, taking a closer look.

"What?" he stood confused. "These guys aren't Wutai troops…"

He looked up as a floating orb of Materia hovered to him like a bubble. It flashed malefic red, and before him appeared a creature conjured from the depths of Hell itself.

The daemon Ifrit stood like a pair of behemoths stacked on top of each other, with cloven feet and abbadonian horns wreathed in immortal flame.

"An Eidolon!" exclaimed Zack. "Who called it?"

A towering colossus of unholy majesty, Ifrit rushed for Zack in a stampeding barrage, while Zack dove away equipping his Ice Materia. He was definitely going to need it for this one.

The fire-beast sent a wall of flame hurling at Zack in an infernal nuclear nimbus, while Zack threw up an Ice Barrier. It melted in seconds, but kept him safe long enough to start hurling ice magic at its head. Fire missiles shot for Zack as he ducked and dodged, rolling away while sending ice rockets flying right back mid-strafe. Calamity cast down on them in apocalyptic maleficence as a Fire and Ice spell collided in the midst of their battle arena, the blastwave sending Zack toppling across the ground.

As the creature prepared another stampeding rush, Zack charged a Power-Slash, imbuing all the Ice Magic he had left. The demon ran at Zack, he leapt to the side, and overhead slashed with all his might. Everything he had left pierced through the unholy carapace of the fire daemon…and did absolutely zero damage.

Now Zack was out of magic.

The creature stood up, sending a pyroclast of flame at him in a tidal wave of nuclear heat. He ducked, preparing for the blow, waiting to be bathed in wildfire.

But something flashed in front of him, something holding the wall of fire at bay. An infernal angel stood with his daikatana out like a proclamation to the sun, guarding Zack against the fray. His eyes were dark against the fire, his countenance smoldering as if to challenge the sun. A single slash and Ifrit had fallen, the blinding explosion bathing him in hot aural radiance as he drove his blade skyward. The silver-haired monolith held his ground, victorious in a flowing black longcoat that waved against the wind.

"Holy…" Zack stood taken aback, as if he had witnessed an avenging angel absolve him.

_Was this…Sephiroth?_

The man went to kneel down by the bodies. He turned one over and all was as he had feared.

"_Genesis_," he said.

Zack went over to the body. He recognized the face, the same from the mug shot in briefing.

"The missing SOLDIER 1st Class?"

Sephiroth turned the other body over, and Zack gasped. "They're identical!"

"A Genesis copy," explained Sephiroth.

"Copy? A human copy?"

Sephiroth looked up at him with urgency. "Where's Angeal!"

"I thought he was fighting around here…" Zack stammered. He looked around on the ground, no tracks, as if he'd vanished without a trace.

Sephiroth grunted and stood. "So he's betrayed us as well."

"What?" Zack spun around aghast, panic edging his voice. "NO WAY! I know what kind of guy Angeal is. And he'd never do that!"

He pursued Sephiroth, who looked to the sky seemingly for answers that weren't there. The dark man turned to face Zack, the young hunter standing strong and ready to fight all the forces of the world. Sephiroth regarded him, boring into Zack's eyes, as if he knew better, and Zack faltered yet again.

"Who do you think summoned that Eidolon?" asked Sephiroth in an almost reassuring tone, it hit Zack like a curse.

"Angeal wouldn't betray us! Never!" He shook his head, yet terrible tears welled up in his eyes. He stepped back from Sephiroth, angry fire rising to cover pain the big man knew was there. Sephiroth let him. Zack would learn the ways of the world the hard way, this twenty-something kid with pierced ears and spiked hair would know what it meant to grow up.

.

[Received Ifrit Materia]


	4. Chapter 4 - Angeal

To: Angeal**_dot_**J**_dot_**Hewely**_at_**SOLDIER**_dot_**Shinra**_dot_**mil

From: ZackFair21**_at_**SOLDIER**_dot_**Shinra**_dot_**mil

CC/BCC: None

Re: Talk to me

Angeal—It's Zack. Command told me not to try contacting you but I'm doing it anyway.

It's been a month now. Sephiroth's got it all wrong, lumping you together with Genesis. Genesis is a deserter who took a bunch of 2nds and 3rds with him. I know you would never condone something like that. You value your SOLDIER honor more than anyone else.

Angeal, just come back, please! Or if you don't want to come back, come find me. I go on a lot of missions out in the Wastelands on purpose, I'm easy to spot. I don't know what's going on but you're my friend and I respect you, and I trust you. Whatever's up I want to help.

Please.

Talk to me.

—Zack

.

Zack was all long gazes and quiet zoning in the Paragon transport chopper, whisking him over far green countryside toward his next mission: _Banora. _Genesis' hometown. Lazard thought there might be information there, but judging by the black-suited Turk strapped in next to him, Zack suspected a trap where he was the unwitting bait.

Words filtered back to him in echoes.

"Zack, it takes more than pride to become First," Angeal had said to him what seemed like a long time ago now. Zack had just smiled in triumph with his chest puffed out and his hands on his hips.

"Whatever it takes I've got it. And if I don't got it I'll get it! I will fulfill my dreams, and I _will_ become a hero."

Angeal had regarded him, and turned away. It was the day he'd decided to take him on as his student.

"Very well, then you have my support."

They touched down on the outskirts of a farming village nestled on a prairie. Before them loomed a veranda of bowed white trees like the ribcage of a great beast buried halfway in the ground. Zack and his Clandestine escort walked through the overhang of indigo apples hanging from drooping boughs like bells.

"…_Dumbapples?" _Zack peered at the fruit, and the Turk regarded him.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Angeal said it once. Where are we?"

"Banora. Genesis used to pick apples here before he joined SOLDIER."

"So how did Angeal know about them?"

Sharp eyes peered at him through slanted slits.

"This is _Angeal's_ hometown as well." Zack gasped at the Turk's emotionless explanation. "They grew up together, and were close friends."

Continuing on in silence, they came to a village of colonial style farm houses. Dead quiet. Litter blew across the dirt streets. To their left a small chapel stood made of brownstone, with a graveyard outside its rectory. However, the earth covering the graves had been disturbed…freshly dug.

The Turk's phone rang.

"Special Agent Tseng…" he answered. "…There is no one here. The town is empty. We can assume the worst…Understood."

He hung up his phone and nodded Zack into the town.

"Search the village…I'll check the graves."

Zack winced and headed off down the main avenue. Might as well start at the first house and work his way down. He picked a modest cottage at the end of a cul-de-sac and let himself in...and froze.

An old woman sat motionless at the table, hands folded in her lap.

"Can I help you?"

"Uh..." Zack choked on his words, until he saw the Buster Sword leaning against the wall. "I'm looking for someone named Angeal. Do you know him?

"He is my son. Who are you? What do you want with him?"

"…I'm his student."

The old woman looked away, as if looking through him.

"Are you Zack, the puppy?"

"Excuse me?"

She chuckled, so welcoming. "My son wrote to me once about you. _Zero attention span, restless as a little puppy_."

Zack grimaced. The old woman let her eyes fall down to her folded hands in sadness.

"Genesis came back here with an army of cohorts, and they proceeded to take the lives of many townspeople. Genesis…he used to be such a good boy."

Zack stood stone, afraid to hear her words. His eyes were pulled instead to the Buster Sword leaning sanctimoniously against the wall, mimicking how he himself leaned against the same wall, like they were brethren.

"That sword represents our family's honor," said the woman, gazing upon him with wise eyes. He saw where Angeal got his from. "When Angeal joined Shinra, my husband had that sword made for him, in the hopes that he would become an honorable warrior. We had to borrow a lot of money to have it made, and then, while fervently trying to return all the money, my husband succumbed to fatigue."

Zack sighed, sadness welling up in him that he pushed back. "It wasn't in vain. He didn't just become an honorable warrior, he became a hero. He taught me everything I know about honor, he's the shining example for all of us in SOLDIER. If you could see him in action, I know you'd be very proud of him."

"I am proud of him. He is more than an honorable warrior, he is an honorable son, a devoted husband, and a doting father."

Zack pricked up, he'd never heard that about Angeal. He sensed he was about to learn a part of his life that he'd kept sheltered and secret.

"…Angeal and his wife were very happy together, but they were having trouble conceiving. When she opted to adopt, he was so ecstatic, but that's where their problems began. They'd agreed that he was going to take a higher-paying job in his company, move up into a White Collar management position, but he couldn't bring himself to leave SOLDIER. He couldn't make himself work in a desk for his family, he viewed it as selling his soul. However, she viewed it as the responsibility he signed up for when he chose to have a family. He tried to compromise, taking on more and more missions to bring in more money, at the price of his time at home with her and his daughter. I tried to help them out as much as I could, but the poverty just got to be too much. The stress overwhelmed her. She and the baby left him about a year ago. The last I heard she remarried and now sells flowers in Winhill."

Zack stood stunned. How something that terrible could have happened to Angeal was beyond him, he'd never said anything about it. And the looming thought of something else hovered just over the cusp of an epiphany.

A year ago is when he had taken Zack as his student.

He caught something out of the corner of his eye. He went to a bureau where family photos were arranged in simple frames…was that a picture of Zack in a photo?

_Oh a picture of Angeal! _Zack realized. _Wow, he's young_. _Must have been taken when he first joined SOLDIER._

He scanned the photos intimately.

_And there's that Buster Sword. Look at him showing that thing off. And he tells me to calm down!_

Another family photograph.

_This must be Angeal's father…He looks as serious as I imagined him._

And a picture Zack would have paid money to keep as collateral.

_Baby picture! This is Angeal? HAH he's so fat! Aw how adorable…_

But he realized quickly that he'd been mistaken. The baby in the picture was dressed in pink, cradled by a woman with auburn hair draped low around her hips. She was slight as a flower with eyes like irises, and arms like vines that wrapped around the little infant like a net. Zack studied her for a long moment, feeling a twinge in his heart for Angeal.

_Now, these two little runts must be Angeal and…Genesis…He and Genesis have been friends for most of their lives. That's a pretty long time, longer than…_

Zack pulled himself away from the photographs then. He didn't want to finish the thought that threatened to creep up in him, a terrible looming truth he needed to deny with everything he was.

She looked over at him pleading. "Please be a good friend to my son."

And something came over him, sacred and final. He knelt like a knight at her side.

"I'll take care of Angeal. You should go hide somewhere."

She looked away with a proud gaze, enshrouded in an enlightening aura.

"Do not be concerned. Genesis…cannot harm me."

He wanted to press her, but something held him back. He left the house with a heavy heart and stood on the threshold gazing at the sky.

Tseng called him.

"Come to the factory on the outskirts of town. I saw a Genesis copy go in."

Zack headed there from the Northeast ascent like the battle layouts at briefing had shown him, and found Tseng on a clifftop overlooking the facility.

"The missing 2nds and 3rds, some of them were in those graves."

The color rushed from Zack's face.

"His own unit? How could he!"

Few things shook a SOLDIER more to the core than blue-on-blue. The uniform meant family, and murder held a special sort of sadism in their hearts.

"Some probably had second thoughts about deserting. What about Angeal?"

Zack was quiet for a moment, looking down in morbid recollection. "He wasn't at the house."

Tseng looked away as if contemplating some business decision he really didn't want to have to make. Zack saw it, and a sense of urgency seized him like a bullet to the chest.

"But please, give me time! If I find Angeal, I can talk to him. If I can convince Angeal, maybe Genesis will come back too."

The sheer naiveté behind Zack's plea was like a child still blind to the world, his desperate zeal fulminating in innocent eyes. Tseng looked away and nodded.

"I understand now why Sephiroth chose you for this mission…"

Zack cocked his head.

"…Genesis and Angeal. Those two were Sephiroth's closest friends. He didn't want to fight them. That's why he refused this mission."

"Well, Angeal is my friend too!"

Tseng nodded again, but this time at Zack.

"He's counting on you to bring them both back. Let's go."

Zack broke through the ceiling glass of the factory, landing crouched on the floor. Tseng dropped down behind him with his colt pistol already out, scanning in a grid.

The factory was empty save for numerous shipping boxes stacked along the walls and two levels of elevated catwalks. Zack followed Tseng down to the lower level into a storage room with an old fashioned metal desk and an ancient box monitor.

Tseng checked the computer. "Looks like the copies are being made here. Check the second floor. Genesis may be there."

Zack nodded and hurried through a far doorway leading upstairs, ignoring the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. He climbed two flights of stairs to an abandoned loft-space, where light seeped in through the double-stacked panes of factory windows like milk.

"_When the war of the beasts brings about world's end, The Goddess descends from the sky,"_ came a voice like a playwright's sonnet.

There, seated upon the floor in romantic reverence, an arm on his knee and a book in his hand, Zack saw him.

_" Wings of light and dark spread afar, fortelling his day to die."_

He was a dashing rogue with cheekbones like a sculpted marble statue, and a rust-colored shag cut sheared with a sharpened stiletto. He borrowed the look of Sephiroth's pauldroned coat, but instead of Gunmental black, his was in Tiamat red. Silver bangles hung from his ears, Zack had pierced ears but not _that_ pierced. He took one look at him and thought _yep, totally the kind of guy who wouldn't want a wife._

He looked up at Zack with eyes that knew something he didn't, eyes that seemed to know him better than he knew himself.

Zack held his ground until Tseng ran up behind him, his colt drawn but his barrel still pointed skyward. Then they saw the cryotank in the corner, filled with liquid Mako that gleaned in an eerie neon glow. Tseng hurried to it aghast, and through the observation port, all their fears were realized.

A Genesis copy floated in the gel.

"Where are the SOLDIER's you kidnapped?" demanded Tseng.

Genesis stood up throwing his coat tails behind him like a flowing cape, a tall imposing force of errant beauty that thought too highly of himself. He faced the two operators with a building rage in his eyes, his hand poised as if to summon a specter.

He glared as a slowly flaring light emanated from his palm.

"SHINRA LAPDOGS!"

A Fira cast jettisoned Tseng and Zack out through the door they'd come through, back like a meteor bolt sprawled across the steps. Zack ripped his sword from his back with a fury that dwarfed rage and ran back up to face the rogue SOLDIER 1st Class. But Genesis had vanished, a hole in the roof above where he'd been.

Zack ran down for the main entry bunker door to go after him, where a pair of Genesis copies leapt to disembowel them. Fired gunshot dropped them just as quickly. Zack turned to see Tseng fully recovered and holding his colt pistol on target.

More Genesis copies spawned seemingly from nowhere to ambush them as they both dropped into combat stance.

"The Airstrike is inbound! Are you sure there's nobody at Angeal's house?" asked Tseng.

"…"

"Hurry!"

And Zack dashed past the copies as Tseng laid down suppression fire for him. He rushed out of the factory, down the path through the cliffs careening toward Angeal's house for dear life.

When he got inside, he froze.

There on the floor Angeal's mother lied dead. He gasped as the weight of what he was seeing sank into him, her life gone from her body, sucking the life from his chest.

He stumbled back, unable to breath, unable to think. A sigh behind him made him turn, and he saw Angeal leaning against the wall—a dead look in his eyes and his Buster Sword unsheathed in his hand.

"What the hell did you do Angeal!" Zack slammed into him, rage overtaking him. He shoved Angeal back, bashing him into the wall again and again, but Angeal didn't fight him. Zack punched Angeal square in the jaw, sending him flying out the front door to topple across the ground like a corpse.

Angeal struggled to his feet, clutching his sword seemingly for dear life. A dead look in his eyes spread throughout his entire body.

"My mother…could not continue to live." His voice cracked ever so slightly. "And neither can her son."

"_I told you,_" another voice called like a song, and Genesis appeared on the roof of the house. He leapt down before Zack, leering at Angeal. "You can't live on that side anymore."

Angeal struggled, fighting a war with himself. The brooding storm he'd always kept at bay had finally broken free, engulfing him in a living hell. There was nothing left to do, and he had nothing left to say. He sheathed his massive sword, and walked off.

"Angeal!" Zack ran after him, but Genesis caught his leg sending him flying over the same place he'd punched Angeal to. Zack struggled to his stomach, grief welling up so great his limbs wouldn't move. "ANGEAL!"

But Angeal kept on, not glancing back at Zack, leaving him down and alone.

"_My friend, do you fly away now? To a world that abhors you and I?" _Genesis' voice followed him like the wind.

"SHUTUP!" screamed Zack.

"_All that awaits you is a somber morrow."_

"_SHUTUP! _I'M WARNING YOU_!"_

"_No matter where the winds may blow…"_

The rage flowed through Zack again like fire thawing his grief-frozen muscles, and he turned on Genesis with a savage hunger that pulled him to his feet.

"Why are you doing this? What happened to dreams and honor!"

He bore into Genesis with a stare that could summon daemons, but Genesis gazed longing and lost out into a private abyss.

"We are…monsters…We have neither dreams nor honor."

He touched the brim of his forehead with two fingers, then flayed his hand out like a proclamation, unveiling a single charcoaline wing.

Zack leapt back aghast at the one-winged angel.

Black feathers floated around Genesis as he glanced back at Zack over his shoulder. The distant hum of helicopter rotors intensified over the mountains. The airstrike and evac were very near.

Genesis leapt into the air, flying off against the sun. In one breath he was gone, and Zack was truly alone.

.

[Received Silver Earrings]


	5. Chapter 5 - First Class

"Angeal, the war is over. Everyone's real happy. As for me…"

Zack flashed back to the image of Angeal's Buster Sword leaning against the wall of his home, and his mother looking down at her folded hands with a sad look in her soft eyes.

"_That sword represents our family's honor."_

He saw Angeal holding the sword to his head in silent prayer at Wutai.

Now Zack stood alone in SOLDIER wing, unable to mesh the Angeal he knew with the Angeal he'd lost. He sighed, defeated.

Then his phone went off, and he flicked it to his ear.

There was no answer on the line for a long moment, he thought someone had pocket-called him. Then a voice he could never forget spoke to him from the other line, said one thing, and hung up.

"Come to Lazard's office."

_Sephiroth?_

Zack hung a right, then a left down the South Hall past the R&amp;D Department's Research Room toward Briefing, where a gaggle of white-coated lab techs gathered outside the frosted glass observation window. They were giddy as school children, biting their nails and whispering amongst themselves while peering nervously at whatever was inside. Zack stopped for a minute to take a look too.

"What's going on here?" he asked one of the lab-rats.

"A new experiment! Doctor Hojo is about see Project Gemini fully realized!"

Zack scratched his head. "Project Gemini?"

"He's successfully transplanted cells from a Cetra onto a high-level monster, effectively neutralizing its feral instincts and bending it to the will of Shinra instead. This is a breakthrough in Bioweapons engineering, and if all goes well we may be seeing imbuement with armor and Materia insets within the next year."

Zack peeked through the glass at a massive King Behemoth that thrashed about while hooked up to wires and tubes, and a spindly little man with a pony tail in a white coat wringing his hands in satisfaction like a mad scientist. The man pressed a button on a control panel, and a searing electric current zapped the Behemoth into a roaring rage. A minute later, it stopped thrashing, going limp like an obedient dog.

"And you guys think this is a good thing?" Zack winced.

"Oh yes! We'll be able to cut the casualty rate of the Security Forces and the ARMA weapons development budget in half. Imagine the implications for modern science!"

Zack walked away disgusted and continued down the hall. A buzzing informed him of incoming email, he whipped his phone out and read a company-wide memo in his inbox.

* * *

To: —Shinra Personnel Email List—

From: Do-Not-Reply**_at_**MailerDaemon**_dot_**Shinra**_dot_**mil

Re: Shinra News

We hereby declare an end to the war with Wutai. Worthy of note is Sephiroth, SOLDIER 1st Class, whose contributions were instrumental in bringing about a peaceful resolution with a minimum of casualties. We thank you all for your steadfast service.

President Shinra

* * *

_WHAT!? Sephiroth was with Bravo Team! What's all this about his 'heroic efforts?' They don't mention me at all!_

Zack slumped halfway to the ground. Heroes were chosen by the media after all, and it's not as if Sephiroth had much control over what the PR Department put in their press releases.

He took the elevator up two floors to Lazard's office. Sephiroth was there going over readouts on an iPad. He looked up at Zack, but Zack didn't look at him. Suddenly he really didn't want to talk to him, or Lazard for that matter. He went to Lazard's desk and stood at attention.

"Congratulations, Zack," Lazard said with folded hands. "You've been promoted to SOLDIER 1st Class."

Zack stood stone. A whirlwind of emotions that had been churning for a long while suddenly went completely numb. Usually, a mentor was supposed to be present for his student's promotion, but since his mentor was _indisposed_, it appeared Sephiroth had offered to stand in for the announcement. This was the moment he'd been dreaming about for such a long time, ever since he became SOLDIER, and now that it was finally here, Zack felt…nothing.

Lazard nodded with knowing eyes.

"Too much has happened too fast. But Zack, I'm afraid I need your assistance again."

What Zack heard was _I need you to do someone else's job, go through a world of heartache and not get any credit for it…again._

He looked away disgruntled and caught Sephiroth staring at the floor. "Are you pushing another assignment on me?"

That wasn't directed at Lazard, that was for the big man who leaned sanctimoniously against the wall. Now he had to look Zack in the eye and own up to him personally.

The alarm on Sephiroth's phone went off, a theme that reminded Zack of chocobos. It saved him. He took out his Black RAZR and turned the chime off.

"Excuse me," he said, then left the room going into Lazard's bathroom outside in the hall.

_What the heck does this guy have his bowels on a freaking schedule?_

Zack shook the aggravation and crossed his arms at-ease, not needing anyone to give him the command to do so. He was done being an obedient puppy.

"I'll fill you in on the assignment," Lazard said. "But before that, go to the lockerroom and change into a SOLDIER 1st Class uniform. It should be hanging outside your locker, and one way or another, you've earned it."

Zack nodded, kicked the full parade-dress turnabout to the curb, and left the office.

Down in the lockerroom he found his uniform on a metal hanger on his locker, along with a bulging manila envelope containing his new I-9's and a forest worth of paperwork. Going from gear-stipend to wage was fun stuff apparently, especially after a failed mission. He changed from his 2nd Class SOLDIER blues into his new 1st Class SOLDIER uniform—the same thing he'd been wearing, only in black.

_Wow, movin' up in the world._

He threw the envelope in his locker and walked out into the hallway a 1st. But if he had any hopes of being descript, they shattered when his friends saw him strutting his Gunmetal black fatigues.

"OHHHH MAN _THIS GUY!" _They all ran to him, Kunsel, Luxiere, Damaris and a guy they called "Swift." They bash-barreled into him, hugging him and slapping him on the back, ruffling his hair, shouting in wild celebration that one of their own had made the cut.

"You are the man! You are the freaking man Zack-Attack!"

"It's Zack-in-Black now guys," said Luxiere, pinching Zack's new digs. Zack just smiled and said nothing.

"So DUUUUDE, we heard what happened in Banora!"

"Yeah man, they freaking leveled the place!"

"You alright bro? Tell us what happened."

"Yeah man, what went down?"

"Tell us Zack."

They all stared at him in anxious anticipation, salivating like he was about to tell them he got laid. The sensation of being backed into a corner with no escape shot his heart-rate sky-high, and his eyes shifted quickly to each one of them. Finally he just shoved his way through them and kept walking to the elevator. They all stared at him as he went, worried about him, not recognizing him.

Behind the closed doors of the elevator he took a deep breath. He got off and went to stand at attention by Lazard's desk, who looked him up and down with something like satisfaction in his eyes.

"A hit has gone out on Genesis," said Lazard as he stood up. "Angeal as well."

Zack's jaw hit the ground. "And you want _me _to do it?"

"No, the Shinra Army will handle it."

"What about _me_?"

"They don't trust you. They believe your emotions will hamper your…judgment."

"Well of course!" Zack leaned on Lazard's desk, this was a bloody nightmare.

A velveteen voice broke his spiraling.

"That's why I'm going too."

Zack's world froze again, the spinning in his head became calm. He stood up off Lazard's desk, facing Sephiroth for a long time, eyes boring into him like a sword.

Then, the alarm! Red lights flashed in Lazard's office and security walls came down.

"An intruder!" Lazard leapt up.

"Where?"

"Close. Sephiroth, the President! Zack, entrance!"

They both nodded and ran out together, falling in step without meaning to. Sephiroth raced to the stairs and Zack hit the elevator, punching G for ground level.

When he got to the entrance, he saw Genesis clones ransacking security forces.

He drew his sword. "Is Genesis responsible for this?"

Zack rushed in to do major damage in minimal effort.

A clone flew at him and he slid on his knees. His whirling sword caught the clone right in the groin. Popping back to his feet, he slash-drew a six-pointed star all around him and clones dropped contorted on the ground in agony. A playful Zack folded his hands in prayer and gave a slight bow.

Zack looked up from the Genesis copies and saw Sephiroth running to him from the stairs.

"Sephiroth! The intruders are Genesis copies!"

Sephiroth slashed a clone nearly in half as he talked. "I know! Hollander must be behind this."

"Who?" Zack arc-sliced another clone and jumped back-to-back with Sephiroth.

"A Shinra scientist," said Sephiroth as he scanned Zack's six. "Vanished after lifting the copy technology."

"So this Hollander and Genesis are working together?"

"Perhaps," another whipslash sent a leaping clone flying. Zack took three more of them in a spinning crescent-slash and it looked like they had a reprieve.

"What is it that they're after…?" Zack asked out of breath.

Sephiroth flicked the gunk off his daikatana. "Hollander lost his bid for the leadership of the Science Department."

"So he's helping Genesis for revenge?"

Then, Zack heard music like a thousand warring angels descending from the sky; an unholy portent of aural reverence serenaded in celestial choirs and pipe organs of apocalyptic doom…Sephiroth answered his phone.

"This is SOLDIER 1st Class Sephiroth…Understood…" He hung up and shot Zack an urgent look. "Genesis copies are attacking Sector 8. Let's go."

They ran out to the Fountain District where Genesis clones were ransacking the cafes and coffee shops.

_Gee, I know lattes are expensive but really? _Zack and Sephiroth set their swords preparing for the takedown.

"You go on ahead Sephiroth. I'll take care of things here—"

But a flash in the corner of Zack's eye swiped like a laser, and he froze. When he looked up, a handful of clones laid dead at Sephiroth's feet. Zack just picked his jaw off the ground and followed.

A clone leapt behind Sephiroth, and Zack cut him down with a single well-timed slash. Sephiroth turned to see Zack at his back with a copy at his feet, and met his eyes with a nod.

They sprinted to the outskirts of Sector 8, and Zack looked around like he was going crazy. "Whoa, this is some serious trouble!"

The clones were like ants, they just kept coming! Lucky for them, Zack liked playing exterminator.

"We should split up," said Sephiroth.

"Got it." And Zack ran off to kick some Genesis assassins.

But a baton flipping out in front of him stopped him dead in his path, making him whirl to keep his balance. He looked over to see a Turk with crazy red hair like he'd rubbed a balloon over his head and stood in a lightning storm.

"Sector 8 is Turks jurisdiction, Slick." He lolled the baton on his shoulder. Another bull-rocker of a bald man joined him, but thankfully he said nothing. Finally, Tseng entered the crowd, and Zack found himself surrounded by suits with sticks up their—

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Zack whirled. "Tseng, do something!"

"The other areas…"

"Midgar's just crawling with nasties," crazy-hair flipped his hand.

"SOLDIER is having difficulties," bull-rocker finally spoke.

"Reno, Rude," and Tseng just wouldn't shut up.

"Just say the word," crazy-hair, aka Reno complained.

"Go."

"Yes sir." And with that, Reno and Rude ran off to find trouble to get into. Zack put his hands behind his head like the whole world had gone mad.

"So now we're outsourcing to the Turks?" he asked.

"SOLDIER's being stingy," a slight little voice answered him.

"There's a manpower shortage isn't there, wait—what!" He whipped around to see a little spitfire girl standing behind him with her arms crossed. "You're a Turk too?"

She was slight with hair as red as balloon-head over there that draped around her fitted black-suit collar like she just got out of the shower. Her weapon looked like a sharpened pinwheel, but she held it like she knew how to use it. Zack wondered what else she could hold like that?

"I'm Cissnei."

Her hazel eyes weren't infused with Mako. Thank god, a normal girl! Zack perked up and stuck his hand out.

"I'm Zack, pleasure to meet ya."

Then gunshots rang out, and Cissnei shoved Zack out of the way. A flip-twirl of her pinwheel sliced a leaping clone in the torso, dropping it dead in front of Zack. His jaw dropped.

Zack went to stand beside her. He looked over at her with a wayward gaze as she crouched down to the body. This clone seemed a cut above the rest, as a single charcoline wing protruded from its back.

"When I was a kid, I always wanted to have wings. You know, like an angel."

She spoke to him as if they'd known each other forever, like a young girl confiding in her best friend.

"If people had wings," he said with a solemn rouse, "they'd be monsters."

She shook her head with sad eyes.

"…Wings symbolize freedom for those who have none. They don't symbolize monsters."

When she stood up, worlds swirled in her eyes. She threw a little smile his way, and something in him smiled back.

"I'm sure we'll see each other again."

She waved, and took off down Loveless Avenue. Maybe not _all _Turks were so bad.

.

[Received Key Item: SOLDIER 1st Class Uniform]


	6. Chapter 6 - Dreams

Zack's phone rang. It was Sephiroth.

"Come to Mako Reactor 5. Angeal has been sighted."

This guy was the definition of _blunt trauma_.

Mako Reactor 5 looked like something out of this one comic book about ninja turtles, sewer pipes and green ooze and weird mutant things crawling around. Zack climbed down a service hatch ladder into the huge personnel chamber like a factory subdivision, looking around in awe and utter bewilderment.

From the shadows, a frost-sabertooth lunged at him, but a swift daikatana cut its life short. Sephiroth showed up to mock-steal Zack's kill again, utilizing that annoying habit of appearing out of nowhere like a phantom.

Zack crouched down by the body—this strange monster he'd never encountered or seen in a dex-manual—and saw that there was a face emblazoned on its elongated head.

"Is that Angeal's face?"

Sephiroth saw it too. "It appears Genesis isn't the only one who can be copied."

Zack looked up at him, but his surroundings caught his attention.

"Hey! I know this place! From the simulation room!"

"_BLACK BELT_," Sephiroth reminisced, remembering this place from the training sims. "We used to sneak in there for fun, when the 2nds were out…Genesis, Angeal, and I."

And a memory played before his eyes like projector reels, a vision of the past…

* * *

_"When the War of the Beasts brings about world's end  
The Goddess descends from the sky.  
Wings of Light and Dark spread aloft  
Foretelling his day to die."_

He stood bathed in molten sunlight, the silhouette of a living star. His silver hair streaked metallic and luminous as crystals, the waking dream of quasars. But the light was fading fast now, wreathing him in a parhelion umbra like a halo, the last dying sigh of a serotonin sunset sweeping golden straylight rays across his heart. An aural remnant of hope and despair, he held fast against the dying day, turning to see his friends standing stoic against the Junon Cannon bulkhead.

"Loveless Act One," he smiled with his eyes.

Genesis grunted, shutting his first edition printing of the poem he'd just read. "You remembered."

"How can I forget…" Sephiroth tapped two fingers to his temple, "…when you've beaten it into my head."

And with a whip of his hand and an evil feline grin, he drew his daikatana. _Come play, _it hummed.

Genesis Rhapsodos, alluring and brocade, drew in turn his crimson Curtana—a sword he'd affectionately dubbed _Invictus_. It shown against his brow in the red flowlight of dusk, an iron guard like a sweeping amaranth wing.

By his side, Angeal drew a sword as well—but not _his _sword—a standard SOLDIER blade on loan from the armory.

"Don't take Sephiroth lightly," he warned, as eager to play as any of them.

"_Humph_, noted," Genesis flicked his hair.

Nothing happened at first, everyone stood frozen in place awaiting something no one was quite sure of, anticipation heavy in the air. The three friends didn't even look at each other, just stood adjusting their grips, until they did look up, and worlds collided.

They rushed akin to a planet exploding, orbital rings of sparking slash-crescents beaming hyperslash melee. Sephiroth's daikatana exploded into motion twirling in masterful crosses, weaving in defensive patterns of transcendental stratiphores. They crossed and overcrossed, underslashed and powerwhipped in cacaphonic meta-slashes flowing off their ambient shard-blades. Sephiroth held them both at bay, sheerslicing in fraylight synthesis, with his daikatana held in one hand he stood up straight against the fray.

Then they rushed him synchronously, and all three of their blades locked like a scatterheart cross—a symbol of might and brotherhood. Sephiroth smiled as if he approved, then sent them flying back.

Genesis launched himself flare-slashing in twirling wisps that Sephiroth bat away carelessly. He shot at him like a pit-viper, swiping and slitting in sharp whipslices. Sephiroth whirled his sword overhead to arc-slash on Genesis' crossed blade, crash-careening them both back in jet-harrowing synth-slashes.

Then Angeal leapt in over Genesis divespearing down at Sephiroth, who narrowly darted out of the way. Now he put both hands on his sword—for Angeal.

The dark gladiator flared his SOLDIER blade in superslashes, chromiotic semi-circles slicing in flashes too quick to see, leaving only a blur from where they were before; Axiomatic iron warfare streaking by them in ley-lines.

Sephiroth skidded to recover. "Ha. Is that the best you've got?" he taunted whilst downslashing.

Angeal upblocked, beads of sweat forming on his brow. Sephiroth's sardonic affection, the only way he knew how to show emotion, but in the heat of battle it was easy to forget that.

Sephiroth knocked him back to stand by Genesis, who waited. He was having so much fun with his two best friends, he hadn't had this much fun with them in a while. He flayed his sword at them against the fading light. In the heat of the moment, it was easy to get carried away.

Indeed, even Angeal seemed a bit annoyed. When Sephiroth's good mood got the best of him, it really got the best of him. Their fun sparring session had turned into an exposé of his supposedly superior skill, and the big man seemed to be forgetting that his friends were hitting for their blades—not for their flesh.

"All hail Sephiroth eh?" Angeal grunted. He sought to bring his friend down a few notches, but Sephiroth just smiled—the only time he ever smiled fully.

"Am I really as vain as some?" he gazed straight at Genesis, and Genesis froze.

_THAT_ was uncalled for. He knew what Sephiroth was referring to—one lone time when they were young, that _one _pass he had ever made. Genesis had nearly paid for that one with his life, and the two never spoke of it again. Now, after all this time, why would he bring it up? So blatantly and unabated he crossed a sacred line, as if it were nothing to him! Then Genesis realized the nature of his betrayal, the game was simply not stimulating enough for him, he wanted to face him with everything he had.

"Angeal, stay back…" he halted his friend. This was personal. This was a challenge. "I'll take Sephiroth alone."

"Genesis!" Angeal now yelled at both his friends, seemingly unable to remind them that this was just a friendly sparring match.

"Besides," Genesis stepped forward, accepting the challenge. "The world needs a new hero."

Sephiroth smirked, his way of showing he was elated. "Come and try."

"So smug…" Genesis imbued his Curtana with Fire Materia that singed in threat. "But for how long?"

Time seemed to slow as they flared out their swords like wingspans, then beat the ground jettisoning them at each other, slipstream sheerwind beating off their blades. They streaked by, turned on a dime and collided head-on mid-strafe.

Genesis rushed, side-swipe flying across the ground in a crash-crescent flourish, while Sephiroth countered, a one-two slash follow-through into a sweeping Flying Arc Slash that uppercut him off the ground. A rip-slash flash-twirl scathed his blade off Genesis', batting him across the sky only to have him whip back slashing like a spitting cobra.

They flew at each other like warring hawks barely touching the ground, dashing like laser beams.

A moment of calm in the storm, and Sephiroth smiled to show his friend how much fun he was having, how much fun he thought Genesis was having—but Sephiroth had pushed too far. Genesis pushed back, wild fury flaring in a catalytic psychosis. He threw aerolites at him, Sephiroth bat them away like confetti. They flared like heat-seeking missiles engulfing him, enveloping him in ultimate fire. Genesis had him, he summoned a specter in his hand to finish the fight.

"Stop." The face of Angeal engulfed his vision. This fight had gotten too out of hand, and the simulation field was in danger of overheating. "You'll kill us all!"

Genesis just beam shot Angeal out of the way. _Move Big Brother!_

Sephiroth broke through the firewhirl throwing laser beams at Genesis like hot javelins, sheering the cannon into strips like apple slices. He seared in hyperphonic bullet slashes at Genesis, destroying the cannon all with only one hand—only Angeal was worthy of two. He threw Genesis back, and Genesis charged him, they both threw everything they had into letting their swords fall at each other.

"ENOUGH!" Angeal rushed in to quell the fight. He stopped Genesis with one sword, and Sephiroth with _his_ sword.

"Angeal," Sephiroth was surprised. Genesis couldn't muster words.

"Out of my way!" he finally growled.

Genesis summoned a specter of light that made Angeal flinch, which in turn made Sephiroth flinch—which was dangerous. Sephiroth reacted, bash-slashing at Angeal's SOLDIER blade, shattering it in steel shards that flew like bullet rounds. One shard went sailing like a thrown dagger, slicing deep into Genesis' shoulder.

He recoiled, hurt.

"Genesis!" yelled Angeal.

Sephiroth stood stone. Startled. That had not just happened.

He let his sword down as the simulation field faded in garbled imagery. Genesis clutched his shoulder.

"Just a scrape," he grunted as he stood up. "I'll be fine. Don't worry."

But the limp he walked with begged to differ. He refused Angeal's hand when he tried to help, continuing on his own way out of the training room—past Sephiroth.

What had just happened? Sephiroth gazed at the ground trying to quell his inner storm, fighting to center himself. Why had Genesis snapped at him? Had he not known why Sephiroth had brought up that one dark curse on their character? Had he not seen? He brought it up because in spite of everything, he'd forgiven him, and in his own limited way of communicating, he wanted to apologize. But these dark things aren't talked about, rather, they are buried in the deepest bowels of memory en cue to be mercifully blacked out. He was faced with the fact that he only knew one way to express himself, through aggression, and it had possibly seriously hurt the two people he cared about most in life.

Had they not been friends long enough? Apparently not. Genesis limped from the tangerine lights of the training room, blood dripping a beading trail in his wake.

_"Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return."_

* * *

Back in the Reactor, Zack leaned on a railing taking this all in. He and Sephiroth both seemed to slump in that dark Mako chamber, illuminated only by the neon glow of the saleen liquid below.

Sephiroth walked over to the body of the monster that bore their friend's face, to distract himself. "So it's true…they're in league with Hollander."

Zack stood gripping the railing, looking down like a lost dog. "How could this happen?" He put his head down on the cold steel, attempting to shut out the absolute disaster he'd slammed head on into. "Angeal…What is it you're up to?"

He heard a melody that reminded him of chocobos again, Sephiroth's alarm. Zack glanced up as he clicked it to silent.

"Excuse me," and the big man pulled from his pocket a small glass neon-blue vial. Lifting the lapel of his coat, he held the cap to his skin and injected the contents into his body.

_Ohh, he's on medication…?_

Zack tried to be discreet, watching Sephiroth dose out of his peripherals. The big man seemed to know he was watching, and after he was done, they continued on without a word.

A jammed bulkhead door barred their way forward, and Sephiroth examined the access panel. He unsheathed his daikatana and proceeded to wedge it delicately between the door and the rusted steel frame like an oversized lock-pick. Zack leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, gazing at the floor.

"You know," he spoke almost just to hear himself talk, "all this stuff I'm learning about Angeal, I'm starting to think that maybe I never knew him, and maybe he couldn't give a care in the world about me. I mean, he did treat me like a dog half the time."

At that, Sephiroth started snickering.

"What's so funny?" Zack asked, and the big man looked over at him with a grin.

"Angeal loved dogs. He ran a rescue for strays out in Banora."

Zack was taken aback. Sephiroth continued with the door, still chuckling, until it swung open on groaning metal hinges.

They entered an impromptu bunker that looked like the kind of place for cooking up Dancer. Complete with research equipment and a functioning cryotank, the entire reactor served as its nuclear-turbine generator.

Sephiroth went to the cryotank and peered inside. Another frost-sabertooth floated in the ooze, a face like Angeal's on its elongated neck. Zack leapt back.

"There's a monster inside!" So many horrific realizations threatened to implode on him. "Is this where they make the copies?"

Zack found a multitude of clipboards scattered about and picked one up.

* * *

_Project G – Summary_

Objective: Implant the cells of a Cetra into a human fetus to imbue said fetus with heightened abilities.

* * *

Zack coughed, remembering a "Project Gemini" where something similar was being done on a smaller scale, and didn't miss the moniker similarity. Now they were moving up to experimentation on _humans_? He wanted to throw up.

"It was Hollander's experiment," said Sephiroth with an air of foreboding. "The result was a normal child. Which meant he failed. However…"

His gaze fell over to another clipboard. Zack snatched it up rifling through the papers.

* * *

_Report on the SOLDIER Degradation Phenomenon_

The heightened abilities of SOLDIER members are maintained by a delicate balance of various genetic factors. The tendency to develop sporadic hemophilic arthropathy characterized by chronic proliferative cartilage destruction has been diagnosed in individuals belonging to the control group of SOLDIER Type G.

* * *

Zack couldn't believe what he was reading. What the hell was going on here? Experimentation on SOLDIER's?

Sephiroth approached. "It was before Genesis deserted…"

Zack peered up at him with looming uncertainty. "What happened?"

"…"

* * *

_The wound was superficial, but for some reason, Genesis wasn't healing._

Angeal and Sephiroth stood solemn outside of the medical bay door, sick with worry and yet somehow managing to keep it all in. The two didn't speak, there wasn't much to say, yet so much floated around in the atmosphere that it could be sliced with a sword. Sephiroth stood with his arms crossed, Angeal with his arms behind his back. This was bad, they knew, they braced.

_The man who treated him was…Hollander._

They approached a stout man with facial hair and answers, looking to him with a sense of urgency that betrayed their SOLDIER guise.

"Doctor Hollander, how is Genesis?" Angeal asked, and Sephiroth held his breath.

"The problem," said the man who would be their savior, "is the Mako energy that seeped in through the wound. The compounded complications from his hemophilia are preventing his blood from clotting."

Their hearts hit the floor. Angeal slumped his shoulders and sighed. "Is it treatable?"

The man spoke with the absolution of a prophet. "First, he'll need a transfusion."

With that announcement, Sephiroth started to step forward immediately, not needing any prompting. No more information was required in his eyes. But…

Angeal put his hand out, stopping him. He looked his friend in the eye with a solemn sincerity that said it was not for him, a kindly morbidity that put him down. Sephiroth returned his gaze only with confusion, worlds swirling in his irises, and the windows to his soul were laid bare. If Angeal wanted, he could have reached in and ripped out his heart right then and there. He would never get the opportunity again in life. He had only wanted to apologize…

Dr. Hollander turned to Sephiroth with a finality.

"You are not viable."

Then Hollander turned away, and the image of him faded to a likeness of air that disappeared. Angeal, his best friend, his confidante and brother in arms, followed stead and vanished like a shadow…walking out of Sephiroth's semblance of life. He tried to follow him, to touch his arm, to reach for him through solitude and somnambulism, but Angeal was fading. He could do nothing but stand there and watch him go.

_Why couldn't I be the donor?_

* * *

Sephiroth paced in the bunker lab as the memory played like random feedback, reaching as much for the image of Angeal now as he had then. His gaze hung long and lost on the glowing cryotank.

"A SOLDIER Type G…"

A final clipboard lay on a portable gaslight. Zack read it not knowing what to think anymore.

* * *

_Project: Ancient – Outline_

It is now an undisputed fact that the life form excavated from the earth is indeed of the _Cetra, _an ancient race spoken about in legend. Archeological research gives us clues to these creatures' genetic makeup, a characteristic trait of this race is that they bleed quicksilver. Furthermore, historical records indicate that these "Ancient Ones" channeled the power of this planet to tear the earth asunder. Using the cells of the unearthed Cetra, we have begun research on creating and mass-producing individuals with comparable abilities. The primary objective of this research is to significantly reduce Mako extraction costs.

* * *

Zack dropped the clipboard on the floor throwing his hands up in defeat. He had no idea what was going on, even less so how to piece together all this random intel—all he knew was that it had taken his friend away from him without meaning or mercy. In the hull of a Mako bunker, he looked to the last strong force in his life for answers, and Sephiroth obliged.

"Project G gave birth to the man we know as Genesis."

"_Project Genesis," _Zack deduced with iron eyes, and Sephiroth finished his thought for him.

"Contrary to this report, Genesis showed clear signs of change."

"…Degrading?"

Then Sephiroth looked up from his puzzle, turning to Zack with answers. "Not only that…"

"…Copies…?"

With a forlorn stare Sephiroth gazed into the cryotank, as if casting a silent curse upon its existence.

"Abominations…"

A flashing alarm shattered the calm in the bunker. Sephiroth and Zack whipped around to see Dr. Hollander on a catwalk pulling on an emergency lever. Startled, he scrambled in a panicked heap out a side exit.

"Zack! Go after Hollander!" Sephiroth ordered. He dashed after the scientists like a pit bull.

Zack sprinted across metal walkways with his boots echoing in the Mako chamber. The floors had grated sections that covered openings to the outside. Zack ran over one making the mistake of looking down…it was a _long_ way down.

Out of the chamber and through an Operations wing, he followed the flash of a white lab coat stumbling around corners. He dashed on, climbing stairs and powering up service ramps, chasing Hollander all over the bloody reactor. They emerged out into an open receiving bay where the airships docked to load and unload cargo.

At the bay doors, a Buster Sword jutted out to block Zack's ascent. Hollander ran away, but Zack let him go, this was so much more important. He stood stone, not sure what to feel.

"Working for _Hollander_ now? What is it you're after?"

"World domination," Angeal said dryly.

"That's not even funny, man."

"How about…revenge?"

"For what?" Zack demanded, bearing into him through the wall with a furious gaze. Angeal stopped, Zack had power over him now, he accepted this. Exasperated, Zack threw his fists out. "Angeal, why! What could possibly be up for you to act like—"

A wing flayed out over the Buster Sword, and Zack stopped dead. Solemnly, Angeal stepped from behind the bunker wall to reveal a single pearlescent wing.

"_Whoa_…" Zack staggered back, the wing brushing his power away like wind.

Angeal stood facing him, wing and sword. "I've become…a monster. A monster's objective is usually world domination or revenge."

_Okay. It was still okay. They could fix this._

White feathers flayed all around him. Zack pressed forward now, reaching for his friend.

"You're wrong. Those aren't the wings of a monster."

"Well then, what are they?"

Zack caught a lone floating feather in his palm. Now he had to be the strong one, for Angeal.

"Angel's wings," he said with conviction.

"I see…Then what should an angel fight for, Zack?" It was a direct question. All their philosophical sparring matches came down to this. Angeal's Mako eyes bore into him.

"WHAT DO ANGELS DREAM OF!" he yelled, flaying his accursed wing.

Zack stood solid, reaching through dire desperation, yet unable to take even a step toward him. It was as if he saw Angeal fading from his semblance of life like a shadow…right in front of his eyes. Angeal held his Buster Sword firm like he held his wing, facing his young student who had none…who still had a chance.

He flipped his sword and drove it into the ground, then strode toward Zack. There was something in his eyes Zack had never seen before, a murderous intent as he backed away.

"Angeal," he pleaded, losing him all over again.

"Angels dream of one thing…"

"Please, tell me." Zack was dying inside. He clutched his black shirt as he clutched at his heart, as if to show Angeal that he'd become what he'd made him, that _they'd_succeeded.

Then, sadness, the kind that could only be seen in Angeal's ocean eyes.

"…To be human."

Then the world slowed down, and Angeal rush-punched Zack straight in the solar plexis. He drove him off the ground, throwing him back thirty feet. Zack toppled across the grated floor like a stricken child to shatter the grating below him, and he fell off the Plate with a scream of death.

Far down, he fell as if from this world to the next.

.

[Received Circlet]


	7. Chapter 7 - Flower Girl

Flay of feathers, white on darkness.

Angeal was 39 years old, though he wouldn't tell Zack when his birthday was. As a result, Zack always teased about how he was probably 39 last year too, and the old man jokes were relentless. None of it ever seemed to ding Angeal's armor though, evoking a deep laughter every time Zack hit a good one.

He rented a flat off Loveless Avenue, a small studio apartment with walls lined in books to the ceiling. Zack said Angeal could run a bookstore out of his apartment, and Angeal had said he'd tried, but got shut down for operating a business without a license. He didn't even own a television, so Zack brought over his projector and game system and they played Tekken Tag-Tourney for hours on their days off. Angeal sucked at videogames, but Zack wouldn't let him quit.

"C'mon, this is the only fight I can beat you in!"

After being humiliated by Zack's female capoeira character in a miniskirt, Angeal would flip the kid's hair and watch him freak out.

"Whoa, whoa! Watch the hair! You know how long it takes me to look this good?"

Then he would get him in a headlock and rustle his hair into a mess.

Angeal was grateful for Zack's company, even letting him crash on the couch a couple nights. He drank his coffee once, and Angeal learned the hard way never to give Zack espresso. But when Zack asked Angeal what he did on his days off when Zack wasn't around, he didn't say much. Zack was too young to catch little details, but now everything seemed crystal, and if he could go back he would have seen in a heartbeat.

The man was falling into a depression.

Now Zack had fallen from the sky, and his world was nothing but a vortex, swirling around in cascading darkness.

A voice. A clear voice brought him back.

_Hey. You okay?_

Spec of white, and a light shone through. It blanketed him in soft luminescence, shining in milky wisps from a celestial plane.

"Hey. Hey! You okay?"

Zack came to in phases, and the world started to clarify. He saw streaking rays of floodlight sun shining through a hole in a roof, and engulfing his vision was the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes upon.

"Heaven?" he asked. She ran her finger in horizontal lines before his eyes, trying to see if he'd track light. His pupils zoomed into focus, and he was certain he was dead. "An angel?"

She giggled, her little lips folding into a grin. "Not quite, but _you're _the one who fell from the sky."

"Wha…?" His mental clarity fluctuated, but then everything started to come back. "Aw man, really? I fell off the Plate!"

She giggled again, helping him sit up. He lay in a bed of marigold flowers that grew in a break in some floorboards, white petals wafting around him like little hands. She stood back then to let him get some air, and he got his first good look at her after he quit seeing double.

She was slight as a flower with eyes like irises, and arms like ivy vines snaking in delicate flowing lines. A mane of fiery auburn hair draped down around her hips like a stallion, falling lush across her slender shoulders and pale neckline, ringing a heart-shaped face with almond lids and fluttery brown lashes.

"Can you see alright?" she asked.

"What? Oh! Uh…"

Lying flat on his back, he kicked up to his feet to show off. _Stuntin'. _Then she got to see how tall he was, and seemed impressed.

_Yesss, brownie points for Zack!_

She came up to his chest, a fragile little thing, and something about that made his heart flutter. She sported a cut-off jean-skirt with gardening gloves clipped to her back beltloop, and a yellow v-neck t-shirt tied tightly at the small of her back. Zack caught the hint of a navel, and his mouth went dry.

"I'm Aerith, by the way," she motioned with her hand for his eyes to come back up.

"Oh, my name's uh…_uhhhh_…Zack! Sorry about your flowers…and your roof."

She chuckled like music. "It's alright. The flowers seem to like you. They have healing properties. If you would have fallen a foot to the left, you'd have been a gonner."

"Ugh, how embarrassing," he cringed, and she seemed to delight in his mannerisms.

"What was it you were doing to have fallen off the Plate?"

Zack sighed, the events coming back to him. "I was trying to help a friend."

"You must be a really good friend to take a fall like that for him."

He smiled, reminiscing. Then he looked up to find himself in an old church. The rafters sported cobweb and pigeon nests, yet still held that same enormity of the vast arching overhang. Stained glass windows were dusty but still intact for the most part, a majority of the pews were dry-rotted, and the altar had long ago been looted for marble. But behind the tabernacle was erected a statue of a woman engulfed in seven saintly wings.

"So where is this place?" Zack asked, transfixed on the statue.

"Church in the Sector 5 Slums."

"A church for what?"

"The woman who raised me said it used to be a sacred fane for the Goddess Ifah, but no one belongs to that religion anymore."

"Huh…" then he looked around and saw squash vines snaking their way up the far wall. Terracotta pots with tomato plants and various shoots were arranged in rank and file under greenhouse-papered handmade arches. "Whoa! What's all this?"

"Oh it's my gardening operation, c'mere let me show you."

And she showed him her tomatoes and pepper plants, eggplants and artichokes. She had onion and garlic shoots started, and cabbages planted in long watering troughs she'd found and filled with compost-soil. She'd built a 4x4 foot wooden box filled with dirt, and when Zack asked what it was she told him about how she could grow one hundred pounds of potatoes in four square feet. Her squash vines snaked far up the back wall, and she said she was trying to keep them from climbing any higher because she couldn't reach them.

"I was thinking about building some chicken coops, but I don't think that's a good idea. I'd end up just keeping them all as pets."

Zack laughed. "Oh you would have hated where I grew up." Then he spied a potted tree in a corner where light streamed down through a break in the stained glass. "What's this? Wait, don't tell me…ummmm…a grape tree!"

She lost it laughing. "No silly, it's a plum sapling." She patted the leaves of her little tree with artists' hands, dirt under her pink fingernails. Then she bounced over to a pew where she kept her knit-satchel.

"Nothing's ripe here yet. I just planted a fresh crop not too long ago. But here's some fruit from my apple tree back home, if you'd like."

She took out a red apple and offered it to him, its rosy flesh reflected in the flush of her cheeks. For a moment he just stared at her as if trying to figure her out, technicolor light rays filtering through the stained glass shone her in spectral wavelengths. He took the apple from her hand then, his fingertips brushing hers, and bit into it. The succulent sweetness ignited him, clear juice dribbling down his chin, he felt like he was going to die.

"Oh my—wow this is the greatest thing I've ever tasted!" He wiped his chin with his hand and finished the apple in a few bites, while she stood with her hands behind her back, blushing. "You're talented, you've got a heck of a green thumb. What do you grow all this stuff for?"

"I give the food to the poor people of this neighborhood. But the flowers, they were just kinda here. So I take care of them too."

They walked over to the flowerbed then. The artificial light streaming down from the roof gave them a silvery luster, sparkling like luminescent stars.

"Wow, you don't see many flowers in Midgar," Zack noted, "they're kind of a luxury item."

"Aren't they beautiful?" She was looking at the flowers, but Zack was looking at her.

"Yes, really beautiful." The flowers glittered off the sheen of her hair, and dazzled in the glint of her eyes. _What the heck, _thought Zack, _the most beautiful girl in the world lives in the worst part of town_. And she did things, she had talents, she had ideas, a beautiful mind in that pretty head. For some reason, Zack thought of Angeal and his mock-bookselling business. "You know what you should do? You should start a business."

"Now way! I could never bring myself to sell the stuff I grow."

"Well maybe not the food anyway, but the flowers, you could sell them and use the money to help out the poor people."

She mulled it around for a minute, and then her eyes lit up. "You know, I never thought of it that way. What a great idea. Wow Zack, you're really smart."

"Well," he puffed his chest out, "I was only Valedictorian in school and graduated top of my class and all."

She giggled at that, knowing those were the same things. A part of her knew this rascal was going to be trouble, and it made her smile even more. At least he was a charmer.

Then, Zack got dizzy and fell into her. She caught him with a grunt. "Ooh careful! You took a pretty hard fall, you must have hit your head pretty good."

His head was spinning. "Oh, I thought it was just you who hit my heart pretty good." She laughed and he came back to his senses, talking through his teeth. "Oops, said the quiet part loud and the loud part quiet."

"Here, sit down for a moment."

She helped him sit on a church pew as he leaned his head on his hand, then she went over to a thermos she had on a crate and poured him tea in a Styrofoam cup. She got herself some and sat down with him.

"Flower petal tea."

He drank it and it tasted like honey and safflower. He found himself getting his bearing, healing properties indeed.

Then they talked, about everything and nothing. She sat side-legged on the pew beside him with her feet up behind her, while he just sat there more enchanted by the minute. They talked about their lives and where they grew up, what kind of music they were into and who their favorite bands were. Her favorite movie was "Gone With The Wind," and his was "Transformers."

Then the artificial sun streaming through the hole in the roof went from solar lights to moonlights, and concern crossed her glistening features. "It's getting late, we'd better get going before the lights go out."

And they stood up, but Zack wasn't ready to let her go yet.

"Let me pay you back for helping me out."

"Oh don't worry about it," she shook off that suggestion.

"No, no, it's only fair. Can I walk you home?"

"You really don't have to, I walk home by myself all the time. It's a grungy neighborhood but it's not dangerous, everyone is very family-oriented around here."

"_C'man_," he pressed her with a wry smile, "I'll carry your bag for you, and everyone'll get to see you walking home with a SOLDIER."

She looked at him then, her debating smile. She knew she shouldn't, but the way he thought so highly of himself was utterly too cute to resist. He didn't need an answer, just took her bag and threw it over his shoulder. Then they left the church together, him in his SOLDIER waffle-stompers and her in her backless flip-flops, walking together through the Slums.

.

[Received Elixir]


	8. Chapter 8 - Wall Market

The Slums looked like the inside of a flying saucer, discarded scrap metal under a durasteel sky.

"It's actually not as bad as it looks," said Aerith as they headed down torn up avenues. "There's even a market by the big hole in the wall. We'll pass it in a minute. I walk through that way just to people watch. There it is over there…"

Zack saw a huge blown out hole in a brick wall where people hustled in and out. He and Aerith followed them in.

The Wall Market was purgatory for gypsies and unlicensed vendors, selling everything from jewelry to Materia to drugs—a third world wonder of Social Darwinism.

Something rushed by Zack's leg.

"_All right! Wutai's greatest warrior strikes again!"_

"What? Hey my Ice Materia!...AND MY WALLET!" Zack pat his pockets freaking out.

"Oh no Zack, did you lose something?"

"My freakin' wallet! That freakin' kid stole my wallet!" And sure enough they saw a cropped-haired sprite dashing around a corner in the marketplace.

"It's alright, I know that girl…" said Aerith. "So strange, she would never usually do this."

"…_I beg to differ," _glowered Zack.

"Let me see if I can bring her here."

"We'll split up. Meet back here in fifteen sharp."

She threw him a salute and a wink, then took off into the market.

Zack ran off in the direction he saw the kid go, but stopped when he realized she was nowhere to be found. As he was about to quit, he thought he saw her standing by a wall looking completely innocent. She didn't try to run at all when he approached her, and he leered with a suspicious look in his eyes.

"Hm…? Hey, you. You wouldn't happen to be the girl who stole my wallet, would you?"

"I'm a boy!"

"Eek! Sorry about that. Well, could you help me, then? She looks like a cross between a bean-pole and a samurai."

"Yeah I know that kid!"

And he ran off to go get her. Zack leaned against the wall with his arms crossed waiting. The boy would be back any minute. How long could it take?

Fifteen minutes later, he was still waiting.

Aerith saw Zack from behind a storefront, but he didn't see her. An urge seized her, and she ducked back behind the wall with butterflies in her stomach. She peaked out and saw him, looking exasperated and rubbing the back of his neck. He was so naïve it was adorable, so goofy and cute it made her bubbly. Besides…there was something special about him.

Finally, after a personal record of twenty-one minutes waiting, he went off to go find _two _kids now. Rounding the corner, he saw BOTH of them chatting by a trinket table.

"H-hey! That's the kid who took…" Zack stumbled over himself so flustered as he ran, but they both darted away to get lost in the Wall Market.

Defeated, flabbergasted, he sighed and slumped so far down he could almost touch his toes. What was in his wallet anyway? His ID Card, a picture of his mom's cat, something that young guys keep in their wallets, and if anyone was going to use his bank card—good luck.

Then he saw Aerith running up to him, alone.

"Aerith!"

"Zack!"

"Looks like you've had no luck either…" She sighed and shrugged, and he felt like a huge imposition. "You really don't have to help me, you've helped me so much already. It was my wallet that was stolen after all."

"Oh no Zack, I don't mind, really I want to."

She'd said she _wanted _to. Ooh that made Zack's heart leap up.

"Let's try again Zack. I'm certain we can catch her this time."

Her insistent smile lifted him off the ground, and he nodded. They each took either side of the street, him looking one way and her looking another. _Finally, _Zack caught an unmistakable glimpse of the culprit.

"There she is! I got you now! Aerith! She's running towards you!"

Aerith jumped in front of the little girl with her hands on her hips.

They cornered her against a wall, and he went up to her with his hands on his own hips. "You sneaky little weasel. Why'd you rob me?"

"None of your beeswax!"

"When you stole my wallet, you made it my beeswax!"

Aerith giggled. She turned bright eyes on the little girl, boring into her as if saying_ you know better._

"You promised me a long time ago you would never steal again."

The girl sighed. "Fine. Here's your wallet."

She tossed it to Zack and he caught it, then promptly checked all its contents were still there. "Thanks. Next time, if you want something, don't steal from me, just come talk to me!"

The girl crinkled her nose at him. "I'll pass. I think even _I _have more money in my wallet than you do."

"Hey you little punk, is that how you thank someone who just cut you a break?"

"This is how I thank ugly Shinra SOLDIER dudes!"

She punched him straight in the crotch and dashed off. Zack crumbled to the ground as Aerith caught him.

"_Once again, Wutai's greatest warrior is victorious!" _And the little girl ran off into the Slums. As for Zack…

"_Aaaaaaah_ I'm gonna drop that squirrel into a reactor!"

But Aerith wrapped her arms around him, helping him to his feet. Maybe getting wacked in the jewels wasn't so bad half the time.

"Poor girl," Aerith fawned.

"_Poor girl?!" _Zack exclaimed.

"She's a refugee from the Wutai war, she's taking her emotions out on people. She's traumatized."

Zack just pinched his knees together. "Yeah. Totally. Traumatized."

"Are you okay?"

"_Yip, awl gude." _Zack clenched his teeth, taking deep breaths.

"Let's get out of here, okay?"

"Way ahead of you."

They headed toward the West exit passage, which passed by the souvenir stand on the way.

"Hey Aerith!" the guy working the stand recognized her. "Is that your boyfriend?"

Zack and Aerith exchanged uncertain glances.

"To be honest, I don't really know who he is. He just kinda dropped into my life."

"That's usually how it happens," the guy chuckled, making them both fidget nervously. "I have something you'll like my dear, I thought of you when I was making it."

She walked over and he presented a sterling silver forget-me-not necklace. She gasped.

"It's my favorite flower!"

"I'll give you a special price for all you help out with in the neighborhood."

Zack saw the glint in her eyes, but she just shook her head. "Thanks but I don't have any money right now. Maybe next time—"

"I'll get it."

"Zack!" she almost yelled at him, but he held up two fingers, shushing her. He took out his wallet, paid the man, took the necklace, and motioned for her to turn around. After a tense moment, she caved, and did as told.

He got to brush her fiery mane away from her neck, the flash of her white nape sent blood rushing to his head. He draped his arms over her shoulders for a fraction of a second as he fitted the chain, fastening it with fingertips that tittered against her skin.

She turned to face him, and she was glowing. She felt the necklace with her hand, caressing the sterling with her fingers.

"Thank you," she beamed. They stayed locked in a steady gaze for a long moment, until the souvenir guy broke their spell.

"Hey, you're that guy who lost his wallet. I saw how you let that kid go. Aerith, you're not gonna find a decent, honest, kindhearted guy like this very often. This one has my stamp of approval." She looked at Zack, and Zack looked at the guy. They thanked the man and went on their way, while Aerith kept glancing at Zack sidelong…he saw it.

They walked down an avenue filled with condemned townhouses. This neighborhood was old, colloquial, and sported street signs in another language. Aerith and Zack seemed not to notice any of this, walking beside each other not quite sure what to do with their hands.

"So my house is down this road, but there's a little park over here that's nice to walk through. Would you like to go?"

"Whoa, that kinda sounds like a date."

She looked up at him with shy eyes. Zack smiled, and they turned down toward the park.

A sad little playground with dried sandpits and molded jungle gyms met them. A little path wound around to the most polluted waterway in the city, a river called the Gowanus. Zack scratched his head when they got there.

"It has its charm," Aerith shrugged.

"Must get so stuffy here, living under the Plate all year round. Don't you miss the sky?"

"I've never seen the sky." Zack stood taken aback, while she sighed up at the massive durasteel Plate. "The sky frightens me, I feel like its sucking me in."

"That's just because you've never seen it," he reassured her. "Someday, you should come above the Plate to see the sky, a real sky, not a plasteel dome with floodlights. It's beautiful, I know you'll love it."

He was _heavily _implying that she should let him take her above the Plate sometime, he hoped she would get the hint.

"What color is it?"

Zack stopped for a moment, getting daring, really daring. "It's the color of my eyes."

_Brave move._He knew this was all about timing. The hunter in him had instincts not just for hunting monsters, but now he wasn't sure if his quarry would take the bait. He reined his dogs in and kept his cool. She'd either go for it or she wouldn't.

A lulling calm seemed to settle over the playground, something that hung listless in the air between them. A breeze swept wish-flower florets past Aerith that fluttered around Zack in foxtails, and she got lost in his eyes.

"…So pretty," she whispered.

_Nailed it!_

"You can take a closer look if you want."

A step toward her put him in arms length, locking eyes. Tourmaline oceans gazed down on her, cyan waves taking her to higher planes of awareness. Mako infusion gave him that vibrant neon hue, but she could tell his eyes had been a beautiful blue from birth. As she floated on seas of lapis lazuli, she felt him draw even closer, an electric-edged haze sending silent signals between their worlds.

A sudden nervous jolt in her stomach, and she pushed him away playfully.

_Fail._

They walked together down the footpath to the concrete waterfront. Zack kept conversation going.

"So what other hobbies do you have besides gardening?"

"Um…I like to cook."

"What a coincidence! I like to eat!" That got a laugh. "You should cook me dinner sometime, and I can tell you how much you rock at it."

"Maybe if my mom lets me. She's the kind of woman who can wear a suit of medieval armor and take out a whole cavalry by herself. She's lived here her whole life, and is really tough."

A thought occurred to Zack. "Is she your real mom?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You said before 'the woman who raised me.' Just curious."

"Well actually I am adopted, but I consider her my real mom. She took me in when I was a baby, she's been there for me my whole life. Why wouldn't I call her my real mom?"

"She took you in? What did she like _find _you?"

"No," she chuckled, "an agency helped her get all the paperwork taken care of with the city, but she took me from a woman who couldn't take care of me. That's all I know."

"Have you ever thought of trying to find your real mom, just to know?"

"Not really. I love my mom and she'd do anything for me, that's what makes a family after all. Your true family is the one you make for yourself."

That hit him. Zack stopped dead where he stood. The whole reason he was down there came flooding back to him, and Aerith turned to see him whirling in his mind. She seemed to know what he was thinking, and reached for him in a soft voice.

"You must have really cared about your friend. That fall you took for him, you could have died."

Zack nodded, but he couldn't say anything.

"He's probably more than a friend to you then," noted Aerith, and he sighed.

"…yeah."

They came to the water's edge, where a yellow rusted railing stood drilled into the chipped-concrete embankment. Aerith and Zack folded their arms over it, watching the oil pockets bubble up from the floor of the riverbed. Now the mood was still as the water's surface, reflecting their waving images against halogen gel-light overheads. Zack worked up the nerve to speak, and went for it.

"So hey…uh…I want to ask you something, but I'm afraid of being too forward."

A silence gripped them, and Zack braced to ask his question, expecting an answer he didn't want to hear.

"Do you have a boyfriend or anything?"

She stared at the churning currents shaking her head in a sad sigh. "No. Actually, I've never had a boyfriend…I've never even been kissed."

_Run. Now._

"What? No way! I don't believe you for a second. A pretty girl like you should be beating guys like me away with a baseball bat!"

She shook her head. "My mom won't let me."

"Well that never stopped anyone!"

It got a giggle out of her, but she held herself over the railing, as if trying to contain everything inside her from spilling out. "It doesn't matter anyway, boys don't come around me."

"Why not?"

Her arm was touching his now, shoulder to shoulder they leaned on the railing together as she shrugged up at him.

"They don't like me."

_Nervous System paging Zack Fair: Bail out! Bail, bail, bail!_

An auburn tress of hair fell across her face, Zack brushed it behind her ear with two fingers, pausing now to lose himself in her iris eyes. His heart did cartwheels in his chest.

"Well…that's their loss."

He felt the pull, and she didn't pull away. With a slow sweep he brought his lips to hers, and kissed her like they were back in grade school. She gasped a little as his energy invaded her, edging through his soft lips and gentle fingertips against her cheek. Just a little tongue, he knew how to give a girl her first kiss.

_That's it. We quit. The guys in Pleasure Center have all the fun._

When their lips parted, they parted in grins. A sweet aroma of candy filled their nostrils with each other's warm breath. Unable to contain themselves any longer, they burst out in giggles.

They walked back from the park holding hands like kids. Aerith lived down a little cul-de-sac lined with red wood houses, and Zack could tell they'd ventured into another neighborhood.

When they got to her doorstep, he gave her back her bag and they stood facing each other on the stoop.

"Aren't you glad you let me walk you home?" he asked.

"Are you glad you let me help you find your wallet?" she replied.

Zack smirked with sly eyes, while she blushed the shade of the apple she'd given him. "Did you think today was going to be this awesome when you woke up this morning?"

"I was thinking it was going to be a normal day, and then…some guy fell out of the sky."

"C'mon that's not all that bad."

She still held his hand, interlacing her fingers in his. Her other hand played with her hair as she wondered what to say now, but he beat her to the punch.

"I'd ask if I could call you, but there's something wrong with my phone."

"What's wrong with it?"

"It doesn't have your number in it."

Her eyes flew wide, she cupped her hands over her mouth trying not to squeal. "That was terrible!"

"_You liked it_," he teased.

She shook her head, this scoundrel really was going to be a handful. She took out her cellphone to get his number—a pink flip-phone with bumblebee stickers—and he took out his without thinking. Too late, she saw.

"I like your phone," she commented.

"You know, I find it helps me get in touch with my sensitive side," Zack didn't miss a beat.

She held in her laughter, but it was no use, she ended up halfway in his arms.

"Oh Zack, I've known you for a few hours and I already know the most important thing about you!"

"Oh really? What's that?" His hands on her shoulders, his smart grin drawing ever closer, her small hands on his chest.

"You are _such _a liar."

His lips parted to receive her, the scent of camphor lip balm. But the door opened revealing a big woman like a medieval berserker, and she did a starjump.

"Noh noh noh! Noh boys! Shoo shoo shoo!"

She flicked her apron at Zack scooting him like a stray dog. Then she pulled Aerith inside and shook her finger at her. The last thing Zack saw before the door slammed in his face was his potentially new girlfriend's sunshine smile.

He walked off her stoop strutting, swaggering like a hero. He was the man! As long as there was a pretty girl at the end of every tragedy, he was game.

.

[Received Amulet]


	9. Chapter 9 - Hojo

Zack was skipping out the Slums with floaty-hearts when his phone rang. It was Lazard.

"Zack, get to the Shinra Building _yesterday_. Genesis has attacked us."

He clicked and dashed off. The floaty-hearts would have to wait. It was time to go to work.

"Hey you!" a voice called, and Zack whipped around to see someone he really DID NOT want to see right now. Instinctively, his hand shot to his crotch.

"Oh no, no-no, don't you dare bump into me!"

The little Wutai thief eyed him like a cactaur, and chucked him his Ice Materia. "Because you're good to Aerith."

Zack cocked his head, fusing his Ice Materia back into his arm. "She really takes care of you all doesn't she?"

"Don't be mean to her. She's very important to us all, more than _Shinra dudes _can imagine."

"Where'd this come from? Don't worry squirrel, I'm not a bad guy. In Wutai I was just doing my job."

"My name's not squirrel, it's Yuffie, and I'm the daughter of Godo Kisaragi, Wutai's greatest warrior."

Zack stood stone. Godo Kisaragi, Wutai's succeeded Chieftain, he was dead now. Yuffie dashed off like a ninja into the Slums, vanishing without a trace.

On the expressway above the Plate, Zack saw the skyline silhouette stoked in smoke and flames. The signs on the overpass marked the Junction, Shinra HQ and Sector 6 splitting off. Zack sprinted underneath it but slowed once he came out, his mouth hanging open to behold…

…An angel, descending in prodigal doom to the highway, a Buster Sword in hand.

Angeal landed soft without a sound, his wing flowing around him with a lifeforce all of its own. There was little hint of aggression in his pose, Zack didn't know what to make of it. So he jogged on toward Angeal, relieved beyond relief when the Buster Sword didn't rise.

"I need your help," said Angeal, a strong rouse edged in desperation.

_Doubleyou-tee-eff._

This was so bizarre. Angeal had knocked him off the Plate for trying to help him and _now_ he comes and says he needs his help? Was he on Dancer? Zack hoped so, that would explain a lot.

Zack strode around him, trying to keep his distance. Stuff just got downright unpredictable.

"Honestly, what the heck is wrong with you, Angeal?"

The man stood stone in the middle of the highway. Zack didn't recognize him, and he doubted Angeal recognized him either. After all they'd been through together, now they stood as strangers on an expressway to bloody nowhere, Angeal holding it together with duct tape and shoestring.

"I'm not…really sure myself," the big man's voice cracked. "At times I feel as if my mind is mired in fog. But Zack, no matter what happens, I have to protect my honor. It's the only thing I have that's truly mine."

The Shinra Building loomed ahead like a megalith of steel and consumerist theory, and Angeal held his sword to it like he had in Wutai. "As long as I hold this Buster Sword, that building will never hurt anyone I love ever again."

In a terror he slashed his blade, flaying it like a proclamation to Shinra. "Zack, fight with me."

Yes. Dancer. That was it. Zack couldn't blame a man who woke up one day with a wing sticking out of his shoulder for falling a little off the deep end. At least he wasn't trying to kill him anymore, now they were getting somewhere.

"Our enemy is all that creates suffering," proclaimed Angeal, and Zack stood with crossed arms trying to absorb this situation as best he could.

The hell with it all, nothing made sense anymore anyway. "All right Angeal…I'll help you."

_Help you into rehab at least._

But Zack turned, and Angeal was gone. He stood in a daze, flustered and confused, until a single feather floated down in front of him. A rush of wind, and Angeal's arm shot around his waist to lift him into the air.

Zack and Angeal swooped off, the dynamic duo together again…at least on some level. They flew toward the armillary sphere of the Shinra HQ Building, its searchlights flaring straight into the sky like sword battalions in the night.

Meanwhile, inside HQ, Sephiroth tri-slashed a clone into three pieces. As another clone leapt at him, he snapped around to bash-Thundaga it into a wall. The legendary Sephiroth did nothing halfway.

Angeal and Zack smashed through a window into HQ. They met Sephiroth at the other end of the corridor, falling in behind him like party members.

"Cavalry's here," said Zack as Sephiroth whipped his sword clean.

"You're late," the big man flashed the slightest glare at Angeal, not batting an eye at his wing.

"Sephiroth," Angeal grinned, "have you lost weight?"

Sephiroth smirked. That was a reference to when they were 2nds and Angeal dumped Sephiroth's "prescribed" rations in the garbage, giving him his steak dinners instead. Skinny Sephiroth gained mass _very _rapidly after that.

"Where's Hojo?" Angeal asked.

"Who cares?" Sephiroth snorted, storming off in brooding disgust.

"I see you're in your usual mood. Zack, go secure Dr. Hojo."

"The head of the R&amp;D Department?"

"Yes. If Hollander is behind this, then he'll be after Hojo for revenge."

"What about Genesis? Lazard said—"

"Leave him to me…" Angeal flashed his blade and whisked off in a deadly stride. Zack sprinted down the reinforced corridors with his head racing just as fast.

Down the hall through an auto-door, he barreled into a research laboratory stacked with Materia Fusion equipment, generator blast-furnaces, and a cryotank marked with the alphanumerics "REDXIII". Zack slid the folding gates away from the service elevator, and slammed the lever for "up."

The final floor was the R&amp;D Testing Facility, an octagonal control room laid out like a technogogic temple for holding black-masses. A magnetically-neutral holding tube self-suspended in the middle of a drop, while a creepy little man stood at the control panel.

Wiry and hunched with beady, carrion eyes, and long hair greased from neglect, Dr. Hojo wrung thin arthritic hands over readouts on a standing holodeck, transfixed and oblivious to the world off the screen.

"Doctor Hojo…?" Zack approached him, but a bony hand shot up to shush him.

"Shh, please be more quiet! These experiments require the utmost of my concentration."

"The building is under attack by the Genesis army and you're worried about experiments? They may be after you Doctor!"

Hojo glanced up from his terminal, giving Zack a spectacled look up and down. "And _you're_ my protection?"

Zack squinted.

The doctor pulled a stylus out of a lab coat pocket and nonchalantly went back to doing whatever the heck he was doing on his terminal.

"Genesis is nothing to fear…a memento of an ancient, degrading, unclassified life form, and albeit a failed experiment."

"Unclassified life form?"

"The calamity that fell from the sky 2000 years ago."

"Uh…"

A commotion broke their conversation. "Speak of the devil, look who's here!"

Ashen feathers fluttered in a cotton rain, and Genesis Rhapsodos stood in vengeful reverence before Hojo. He pointed his blade at the mad scientist in absolution, as if something had been taken from him and he wanted it back—but deep in his heart he knew he would never get it back. His threat was a futile attempt at recompense.

"Hollander sent you, correct?" taunted the little man in the lab coat. "You think that if you obey Hollander, he'll stop your body from degrading."

It wasn't a question, but a mocking statement.

"Genesis!" Zack rushed him, drawing his sword on him as he drew his on Hojo. The two SOLDIER 1st Classes stood at a stalemate, with the little man in the lab coat laughing the entire time.

"A second-rate hack like Hollander couldn't cure a cold!"

"Nor could a first-rate hack like you, genius," growled Genesis.

"GENESIS! THAT'S ENOUGH!" a strong voice called. Angeal rushed in from the service elevator with a flay of his wing, adding his sword to the trio in a blade-stalemate. The three SOLDIER's faced one another despite an oath they took to protect each other what seemed like a long time ago…and all the while the little man in the lab coat laughed.

The three of them stood in a tri-linear lattice, with Angeal's wing at its pinnacle, and Genesis spoke from somewhere far away.

"_My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains. The arrow has left the bow of the Goddess."_

"Loveless, Act IV," Hojo threw his hands up in comedic disgust. "Where the two friends challenge each other to a duel. An ancient epic. I read it thinking it might aid my research, but…pure drivel."

They stood stoic, swords in a lenticular cross.

"How does the duel end?" asked Angeal.

"No one knows. The final act was never written."

Genesis flung a Fira spectre at the scientist, who dived away as a searing hole smashed through the wall. The one-winged seraph strode toward the opening, his wing fanning out like a curse.

"The mysterious Gift of the Goddess…What is the meaning behind it? For us, at least." Genesis stood bathed in aural flame, a backing of smoke and a gaping hole in the wall. The flames reflected off his pale features as he flew outside.

"Hey! Hold it Genesis!" Zack ran after him, but Angeal had already swept him up by the waist, flying with him out of the gaping hole. While all the while the little man in the lab coat just stood there laughing.

Genesis floated down from the Shinra building like an avant-garde assassin, a celestial seraph of melancholic accord.

"_My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment to find the end of the journey in my own salvation…And your eternal slumber." _

A crystal cell in his hand, the luster of galaxies in its wake…an Eidolon Materia.

The cast exalted the cranial transmutation circle, flaring like a semiotic sundial of elemental spheres. Angeal and Zack flew to its nexus as the hypervescent symbology once again glowed and shifted the natural world.

"He's summoning again!" called Zack.

Angeal rush-flew him to the overpass. "Zack, I leave this to you."

And he dropped him off, flying away. But as he went, he looked back down on his student.

"You can do this. Trust me."

"DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!" he leapt for Angeal like a child.

But Angeal wisked off to fight his own battle…against Genesis. Zack saw the Buster Sword rise—and he _never_ saw that thing rise—to bash-flay off the red Curtana of a dark angel. Angeal and Genesis sheer-slashed each other in the sky, flying off to wage their war in the clouds.

Right then, at the most _convenient_ timing, his phone rang. Zack answered it surprised.

"Aerith?"

"Hey Zack."

"HEY! Hold on, lemme go hands-free…" Zack dug in his pocket for the Bluetooth dongle and fitted it to his ear. "Alright, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I can hear you fine. How are you?"

"Well, I'm great now that you called!"

She laughed like summer. Above him the sky morphed into an apocalyptic lightshow, cataclysmic energy flares beaming in aphelionic resonance. A seismic claw sliced the atmosphere, and a neoarbitronic dragon appeared above the overpass.

Zack drew his sword in a one-handed flash, stepping up to meet this daemonic fury.

"You caught me at just the right time, Aerith. I was just gearing up for a _workout_."

And the dragon charged down from the stratosphere, shooting streaking flareshots like screaming missiles. Zack sprung off his hands as fireballs slammed into the ground inches from him. He dashed around to get on the dragon's left side.

"So what're you doing?" he asked Aerith, not forgetting that she was on the line.

"Oh, dishes, you know…_punishment."_

"Aw shoot! Looks like I'll have to come rescue you, my Cinderella."

She giggled again. "Hey, what's that sound?"

"Oh, the TV, I can't find the remote to turn it down…or _off!"_

A sharp tail bashed the asphalt around him. He ducked and dodged, hurling Thudara beams and ducking back. Zack dive-rolled away from a claw-swipe back to his feet.

"So hey, not like I'm hinting at anything, but what do you like to do for fun?" he asked her.

"Um, I like to read a lot."

"Really? I can read too!"

"Oh _really_?" she giggled. "What do you read?"

"Uh, do comic books count?"

She laughed so he could picture her brilliant smile. "You're so cute Zack."

_Neeeee, she thinks I'm cute!_

The fight raged. The dragon flared its wings in hegemonic darkness as it gathered rays of light to its gaping maw. _Ohhh snaps…_Zack threw up his Barrier.

ExaFlare, Cluster sphere, Hexifang, the powerful hyper-attacks careened down on him like unholy lightning. Zack felt radiant heat singe his eyebrows. _That's it_, he needed his eyebows! How was he going to look like a sexy beast without eyebrows! He charged in, pissed.

"Are you okay Zack?"

"Yeah! Moving boxes around. You know, getting rid of some JUNK!"

Bash-bash-bash. Fight-fight-fight.

"So hey, you wanna hang out this weekend? I doubt there's any bookstores in the Slums but I'm sure we can find something to do." Zack traded slashes with a swiping claw.

"Well, I help out in the neighborhood on the weekends. Maybe you'd like to come with me?"

"I'D LOVE TO!" despite the fact that Zack had never done a day of community service in his life.

The dragon lowered its head to gnash with teeth at Zack. He took the opportunity to leap onto its snout, jabbing his sword right between the eyes and ran with it all the way down the length of its spine. He hopped off the tail, still talking as the dragon fell.

"So it's a date then?"

More giggles from her, and Zack's chest fluttered. "It looks like it is."

"GREAT! I'll seeya then!"

He clicked on her, then turned to see the megalithic monstrosity topple like a fallen dynasty. Zack just stood there for a moment, watching this massive protoevangelic Eidolon slumped like a slough-bucket over the highway, with Zack's name written all over it in blade-slashes.

When the dust finally settled and the falling fragments of flash-fire ash raining from a novic sky receded, he did the one thing that seemed appropriate to do at that moment…

He started dancing!

"_COME ON IN AND PULL YER'SELF UP A CHAAAAAAAAIR. LET THE FUN BEGIN IT'S TIME TO LET DOWN YOUR HAIR! AND ZACK IS SO EXCITED, CUZ ALL HIS FRIENDS INVITED, AND ZACK IS SO EX—"_

He was doing the running-man when he caught Sephiroth standing with his arms crossed. Zack froze, a sheepish grin on his face. The big man strode past without a word to inspect the infernal carcass of the antithetic Summon—when Sephiroth said nothing, it meant you did a good job.

"Genesis has fallen back…" he said, and Zack trotted up to him.

"Escaped?"

"…along with Angeal."

Zack let out a frustrated sigh, and his glare bore a hole in the asphalt. Sephiroth started back toward the Shinra Building.

"Be on high alert. Trust no one. Things are going to start getting really ugly really fast."

.

[Received Doctors Code]


	10. Chapter 10 - Sacrilegious Bad Boy

Aerith Gainsborogh was eighteen years old and had been homeschooled by her mother her entire life. The big woman had a warlike mindset that had seen too much to believe in honor, so she would not send her bright little girl to a neighborhood school if the skies opened up and rained fire and brimstone solely on her property. As a result, she had Aerith reading by four, playing the violin by seven, and maintaining their entire herb garden alone by the time she was ten.

Elmyra Gainsborogh came from a long line of hardworking immigrants, and taught Aerith the value of selfless service and good old fashioned elbow grease. The girl never complained about hanging the linens on the line, then running out to tear them all down when the soot-fog rolled in and she had to do them all over again.

Aerith had been a dream to raise, but a nightmare to keep against the tirade of the Mayor's people constantly beating down Elmyra's door with seizure orders. She had not been a fussy or precocious youth, and even her dreaded teenage years had gone by without a hitch. Elmyra almost never had to scold the girl…

…until recently!

Zack met Aerith at the church in Sector 5 to find a growing crowd of people already there. Aerith volunteered with the YMCA on Sundays, so she along with locals from the community set up a soup kitchen out front with produce from her gardening operation. Inside the church became an impromptu donation center, with volunteers organizing a coat-drive and community clothes-rack. Students from the Community College came down to provide peer-counseling for the neighborhood's troubled youth, talking in the pews with very young children and some all the way up to Zack's age. A separate table was set up where Aerith wrapped flower bouquets in wax-paper bundles, selling them for $5 gil apiece to benefit the needy, they were all gone in an hour.

Zack had lived in the Shinra Barracks above the Plate ever since he came to Midgar, so the outpour of the city's downtrodden and displaced denizens shook him up quite a bit. He'd never seen so many homeless people in his life, scraggled and unkempt with as many holes in their skin as there were in their clothes.

What bothered him most was the classic mark of red rings around their bloodshot irises, the telltale sign of Dancer. Aerith taught him not to judge them, reminding him that there were very few people in the world who were as strong as he was. She was the only one who could scold him while still making him feel good about himself.

The volunteers that helped her were hardy folk, working people who had lived in the Slums their whole lives and did what they could to survive. Most, if not all, had never seen the sun. Zack implored them, asking them why they never went above the Plate, and they replied that there was nothing up there for them. But wasn't it preferable to this, why would they choose to live down there like that?

One woman who worked in a factory put her hand on Zack's shoulder looking him straight in the eye.

"Kid, living's better than dying."

Zack's heart went out to them, and he found himself filled with a renewed vigor to help them. After all, he was a civil servant, a servant of these people too. So when a box-truck pulled up laden with heavy donation packages, Zack jumped right up and got to handing them down two at a time. Boxes as big as him, no sweat, he was SOLDIER! He had that truck unloaded in fifteen minutes flat with admiring glances being showered upon him, scoring brownie points with Aerith like three-throws.

He did some improvised community outreach work, letting the little kids line up in the church and take turns punching the SOLDIER's hand. Some wayward apprehension loomed in the back of his mind however as he kept his knees bent wary of his crotch.

When the citizenry was amply fed and all the volunteers packed up and went home, Zack and Aerith got to do what they'd wanted to do…be all over each other. They sat in the pew by the flower bed kissing like the world was going to end, exploring each other's taste in rapturous enflowering waves, their arms caressing each other like sweeping cattails. He felt like some sort of sacrilegious bad boy making out with this hot young filly in church on Sunday.

_Oh what would his parents think?_

The thought filled him with evil pride as he deepened his passionate intensity lovingly toward the girl in his arms. She really liked his biceps, her tiny hands running up their firm length to his shoulders, sliding under the sleeves of his uniform shirt. Man, he was loving this!

"I'll take 'yes' for one hundred gil," he said in between kisses. Her eyes shifted back and forth, a kitten's curiosity twinkling on the tip of her nose.

"What's the question?"

"Are you my girlfriend?"

The spark that lit up her face was exhilarating as fireworks, the sheen of roman candles in the deep well of her eyes. Zack pulled his girl into his lap and kissed her longing and fiery until the lights went out.

Their two-week anniversary went by like a song on the radio, and they hit the one-month mark coasting on candy-kisses and walks in the park. Zack bought her a little plant he'd picked up at the Whole Foods near the boardwalk for the occasion.

"Checkitout! It's one of those fly-catcher thingies, I saw it and thought of you. I named it Spikey."

She put her hands on her hips shaking her head. "Zack, it's a Venus Fly Trap, and it's not an animal, it's a plant."

"But look at it! It's got teeth!"

"It doesn't belong to the kingdom _Animalia _and it doesn't have a backbone."

"But it eats meat, just like me!"

Oh she could hug him for the rest of her life.

Of course, gossip spread like wildfire in SOLDIER, and keen glances started being thrown Zack's way. His friends in particular would get quiet on lunch hour, and he'd find them all leaning in, leering at him with wry, expectant expressions. He told no one, and couldn't figure out how they knew—perhaps the couple-selfies plastered all over his Facebook wall had something to do with it.

Only one thing bothered him that he'd just barely started noticing—black suits, hovering around the church. Zack caught them posted up in precarious positions, on terraces of other buildings or in parked cars with tinted windows. Four of them—Reno, Rude, Cissnei, and Tseng—took shifts alternating surveillance.

He tried to pretend like he didn't know, keep a low profile, but he knew they knew. He assumed they were watching Aerith because of her involvement with Zack, he was involved in some pretty heavily classified stuff after all. It didn't make him too nervous, they were just _Turks_, might as well have sent rent-a-cops to keep tabs on him. Zack took sick pleasure in knowing that he got to make out with his girlfriend while they had to sit outside in the elements bored out of their minds watching him score.

.

[Received Muscle Belt]


	11. Chapter 11 - Duty

Back at Shinra, everything was tense, like a low droning rumble of an earthquake right as the ground opens up and swallows everything.

"Come on, pick up!" Zack gritted his teeth by the Break Room window.

"Who are you trying to call?" asked Kunsel.

"Sephiroth. I haven't been able to reach him."

"Haven't you heard? He's shut himself inside the data room researching the R&amp;D Department."

"How do you know all this?"

Kunsel took Zack aside in low muffled tones. "Sessions are logged and I know the network guy…"

Zack froze, this was way above their clearance level. "What do you know Kunsel?"

"He's looing up something called _Project G_. What's going on Zack? This is like Men in Black conspiracy-type creepy."

"Heh, your guess is as good as mine."

Zack would get his answer sooner rather than later, when he would be called to take on yet another mission that he would never accept lying down.

"Security Department is hounding me because of the Genesis raid," Lazard said from his desk as Zack stood front-and-center in his office. "They're getting ready to eliminate both Genesis and Angeal."

Zack froze, trying hard not to freak. "Wait a minute! You do know that Angeal was in the battle, trying to protect the Shinra Building—"

"The company has branded him a terrorist. We do not negotiate with terrorists."

Too late, Zack freaked. "I can't believe what I'm hearing! If that's the way things have to be around here, I quit!"

"You forget SOLDIER, you signed a _contract _when you joined this organization. If you try to quit I'll have you in a holding cell for the remainder of your tenure and send Sephiroth in your stead, and I can assure you Shinra has been making him dance for far longer than we have you. A good SOLDIER knows his place."

Zack stormed out, slamming the door so hard that a crack edged across the glass. It was not the only crack, there were several in different places making their way toward each other like an expanding road map. Lazard remained unfazed. He was used to having 1sts storm out of his office.

A set of stairs descended from the Shinra Building into the Fountain District. Zack reached the bottom when a shady voice spoke at him from an alley.

"Ah, _a young 1st_, that would make you Zack."

Zack whipped around to the alley on full alert.

"Who wants to know?" he asked.

And _he_ stepped from the shadows, a funny looking man with funny looking glasses and a scalp that could bounce a mirror signal off it. He flashed a crooked smile and handed Zack a card.

"A member of the only army you can employ."

Zack took it and the man walked away. The card was blank save a name and a phone number for "_The Spider."_ A journalist, more than likely, snooping around Shinra for juicy conspiracy theories. When Zack turned around, he was gone.

He put the card in his wallet and continued down the stairs, all the way to the train station, all the way to the church in Sector 5, where the asphalt piles from long-ago bulldozing operations laid like open graves.

"They want me to kill the man who trained me," he said to Aerith as he sat next to her in the pew like one of the kids she peer-counseled on weekends.

"How are they even allowed to do that? You're not just a drone, you're a human being with a conscience."

It was so nice hearing Aerith call him a human being. He'd felt like a corporate punching bag for a while now.

"Is this the man you fell off the Plate for?" she asked, and Zack just looked at the flowers with a nod. "Then he deserves your support, and I support him too…he brought us together."

"He killed his own mother Aerith. How do you square that against a guy? I've been going over and over it in my head and I just can't make it mesh."

She sighed next to him. "Oh Zack, if only I could help you answer that question."

They sat there in silence holding hands, lost in their own thoughts like the dust swirling in the fraylight of stained glass windows.

"Things are really starting to heat up at HQ," said Zack. "I'm locked-down on base right now but I can be deployed anywhere in the world at any minute. I could be gone for weeks, maybe months, even a whole year if things get hairy."

"But you're a SOLDIER, that's what you do. What are you worried about?"

Zack spoke as if in silent prayer.

"What if someone else comes along while I'm not here?"

She shook her head smiling.

"Zack, I don't think I'm ever going to meet anyone else who's as charming, sweet, naïve and pig-headed as you…" Then she interlaced her fingers in his. "I'll wait for you…for as long as it takes."

But Zack seemed only to slump more, a subtle sadness hovering over him like a cloud.

"That's what they all say," he muttered, not meaning for her to hear. But then he realized he'd done it again, said the quiet part loud and the loud part quiet. "…I didn't mean it like that…"

But she just giggled her sunshine laugh.

"How about if anyone is talented enough to fall off the Plate, sail through my roof and land smack in the middle of my flower bed like some other bozo I know…I'll give him a shot."

Her sunlight pierced his darkness, a reminiscing half-grin on his lips. He fell into her arms, the only place he could find solace in this madness, and she took him in like a deep lake swirling around him in waves of fiery auburn hair.

"If only I could have taken you to my Prom," he said as he inhaled her flower petal scent, "then I could have shown you off like royalty. All my guy-friends would be sweet on you and they couldn't have you because you're taken. It would be so satisfying."

"Zack, if you would have taken me to your Prom, you would have ended up in the hospital falling over my two left feet. I can't dance."

"How do you know? Have you ever tried?"

"No, that's how I know I can't dance, because I don't do it."

At that, an evil thought entered his mind. He whipped up the YouTube ap on his flip-phone, and a moment later the smooth aural hymn of soft music amplified in the vastness of the empty church, a beautiful baritone beaming off the arches and rafters like a full echoing choir. Zack leapt out of the pew and held his hands out to Aerith.

_"Ohmagosh_ no!" she panicked.

"C'mon this is the first song I danced to in 8th grade! You'll like it, it's about a flower."

She hesitated, but couldn't resist the warm look in his eye for long. She took his hands as he pulled her up into him, away from the pews to where the gleam of marigolds flickered just for them. He put her hands around his neck, held her about the small of her back, and danced with her to the soft aria of Seal's "Kissed by a Rose."

In that moment, everything outside of that church ceased to exist. The flowing lines of moonlamp light seeping through the hole in the roof swayed in delicate shadows between their two bodies. They moved together like watercolors blending in synchronous flush, their soft still breathing brushing off each other's eye lashes as they pulled in closer. A pounding energy seared through their limbs, connecting them together in a spiritual barrier, a lulling magic trance that was them and only them on this night.

"I'm not in the hospital yet," he teased.

"Just wait. The song's not over yet. You will be."

"Maybe," he sighed. "Every time I see you, it's like I fall out of the sky all over again."

"Oh no, you and your cheesy pick-up lines," she rolled her eyes, but felt him tense. An anxious silence between them seemed to grow before he managed to string words together again.

"…Yeah, I guess I am pretty cheesy aren't I?"

She winced realizing she'd tapped him. She hadn't meant to do that, she hadn't expected it from the joker he was.

"…Not always," she tried to coax him back out. When he didn't speak for a long time, she knew she'd messed up, sending him running right back into a shell she'd been trying to bring him out of.

"Every night I have dreams that I'm falling out of the sky, I come to in a cold sweat. Every morning I wake up in your flower bed, but I don't wake up next to you. Sometimes I wonder if you're even real, or if I'm just floating in a cryotank somewhere dreaming this all up. I've never felt this way about anyone before…"

He closed his eyes against her soft hair, his lips touched the brim of her ear, swaying in the philharmonic solitude of each other's arms. "I'm falling for you…it feels good."

His sweet breath on the side of her face lulled her into calm as his cellphone serenaded a rose. She hated that guarded part of her that doubted, that couldn't enjoy him for fear of losing him. A small insignificant part of her thought maybe he wasn't being genuine…until she felt his heart speed up.

She leaned against his chest like she'd never felt a man's heart beat for her, slow-dancing in the flowing acoustic ambience of an old church in the Slums.

He couldn't walk her home anymore, as her mother would chase him with a meat clever. So he walked back to the station with his heart on his sleeve, a twenty-something kid with pierced ears and boots that were just starting to get dirty, shuffling alone through the Slums on a starless steel night.

A quick flash of white by the hole in the wall pulled him out of his slump, and he stared wondering if he'd been seeing things. There was nothing through the hole in the wall, it was just an old depth-charge wound from some riot back when people actually cared about something down in the Slums. He went through it anyway for curiosity's sake, and confirmed his suspicions. Nothing there.

The crunch of boots on gravel, and Zack looked up to see an angel perched on the wall.

"Angeal!?"

And there he was, crouching like a dark titan atop the wall. Zack was so elated he couldn't get his thoughts to stand still.

"Where have you been? What are you doing here?"

The man smiled down at Zack. "I got your email."

Zack's smile took in his ears. He was whirling in his mind, so taken aback at seeing Angeal there when he'd wanted nothing more in life at that moment. Zack stammered up at him.

"…Are you okay? D-do you need anything? I can help."

"I'm fine Zack. Well, almost." Angeal fluttered his wing and Zack smiled.

"You know, I don't know why this is such a big deal. I mean, can you hold beers with it?"

Angeal studied his wing. "Hm, probably."

"Then what's the problem?!" Zack threw his arms out. They both laughed like they used to, Zack had always been the one to make Angeal laugh first.

But a silence followed, and the laughter faded like the aftertaste of fine spirits. They knew what the problem was. He pinched his black uniform shirt with a sheepish grin, to point out that hey, he'd made 1st. Angeal smiled that he knew, looking down on him the same way he'd looked at him in Wutai what seemed like so long ago now, that gleaming gaze of pride in his ocean eyes.

It seemed like he was there just to look at Zack, like a father violating a custody order to see his child. Zack knew what he wanted to say to him, but beat around the bush, pulling up things to talk about just so he could keep talking to him.

"…I didn't know you had a kid."

And Angeal's eyes fell for a long moment. When he looked at Zack again, he smiled to hide the pain.

"Did you ever think of trying to contact them again?" Zack asked. "I mean, it's not like you have much to lose now."

Angeal just sighed. "It would be dangerous for them to see me now."

"Oh…I suppose."

Zack looked at the ground too, so many questions and no way to ask them. Did he even really care about the answers anyway?

"How are things on the homefront?" Angeal asked.

"Crummy. Lazard's a prick, and now I can't get a hold of Sephiroth either."

"Why not?"

"He's holed up in the data room or something, going over old research documents about Project G."

Angeal went silent for a moment, a tension falling over him. "I see…"

"What, is something wrong?"

"No…I'm glad you're getting to work with him more."

Zack smiled at the ground. "He's something else alright."

"He's a good man Zack."

"You're telling me. I was scared of him at first but he's really a great guy, I'm learning a lot from him."

Angeal gazed at Zack with a look that wasn't a look, as if he was giving him silent instructions. He bore into him and Zack panicked, sensing his meaning.

"Wait! Don't do that Angeal! Sephiroth already has a student, don't you dare try to hand me off!"

He stepped forward, strong like the young boy who'd broken a sword in the training room—the young man who now stood ready to take on the world before Angeal. It was so refreshing to see Zack like that, burning with that fire that had made Angeal take him as his student in the first place. Angeal wasn't letting him go that easy, and Zack relaxed when he saw him relax in turn.

"Actually…" Angeal said, "I know his student."

"Huh?"

He nodded. "I used to take her out on missions before you came along. A girl whose only dream was survival, I only hope that some of the things I said got through to her. She's about your age, you should talk to her sometime, find out for me."

Zack traced lines in the dirt with his foot. "Heh, that worked great last time."

He kicked his boot off the ground, scattering pebbles like shrapnel bits at the wall. He slumped his shoulders in a melancholic calm, it was time to say what he had to say.

"Lazard wants me to go after you. He says the Security Department is planning to ice you and wants me to help. I'd leave the company…" Zack looked up at him with pleading eyes then, like a little boy in silent prayer. "…but I have nowhere to go."

Angeal saw the pain there, felt it rip through him like a saw blade, Zack's gaze piercing him like a sword.

_Take me with you, wherever you're going and whatever you're doing, I want to go too._

Angeal gazed back as if he'd heard him, but he didn't acknowledge him. Deep in his heart he knew he couldn't, and deeper still, Zack knew it too.

"Genesis and Hollander are in Modeoheim. That's where you go next," he replied.

"Modeohiem? Doing what?"

"Making more copies, I presume."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Angeal sighed, a soft breeze blowing oil dark hair across his warrior's brow.

"Because you and I are pieces in a passive-aggressive chess game. Do you ever play chess Zack?"

"Is it a videogame?"

And Angeal smiled, the way he used to smile when he was with Zack, a smile that made Zack's heart leap up to see again.

"Remember videogames Angeal?" he asked.

The man shrugged. "I haven't gotten any better at them."

"Why couldn't it have just been videogames? Why couldn't things have stayed that simple, you know?"

He bowed his head for a long moment in meditative stasis like he'd done with his sword. "Because, Zack, if life stayed in one place, we'd never get to where we're going."

Angeal gazed down at Zack in gilded reverence. Zack had changed so much that he almost didn't recognize him. He was so proud of the way he carried himself in that black uniform, but something else tore right through his heart—his student didn't wag his tail anymore.

He already saw the dark circles beginning to ring Zack's eyes, he wasn't getting much sleep. It killed Angeal to see him like that, it made him want to hop down from that wall, scoop him up and carry him away somewhere far. But he stayed put…he had nowhere to take him.

They stayed like they were for a long moment, like two parts of some grand play, a silent angel perched on a wall, a boy in a courtyard gazing at the sky. They shared a solemn silence, a long lonely gaze connecting their worlds in a fraying thread that threatened to break them apart forever.

"Tell me about honor Angeal," Zack asked the angel.

Angeal flinched. "You actually _want_ me to lecture you now?"

And Zack nodded strong, pleading.

"But you've heard so many times."

"I forgot."

Angeal sighed up at the durasteel sky, the flooding moonlights swept off his dark vestige like oil on the river. When he looked back at Zack, he was his mentor again.

"Zack, I can tell you what honor means to me until I'm blue in the face and the skies turn red. Now, you're old enough, it's time for you to figure out what honor means to you."

"What if I can't?" Zack pleaded. "What if I can't figure it out?"

And the man gazed down at him with a soft look in his dark eyes.

"…You will. Tough times never last Zack, but people like you…you're made of something special."

That hit him, like a lightning strike straight to the heart, Zack almost lost it then and there. He took a breath as Angeal stood up off the wall fanning his wing out to its full length. He just stood there for a moment, one last sacred moment that Zack marked forever in his soul, taking a mental snapshot of Angeal like that to look back on whenever he needed strength. The dark angel gazed down at him in prophetic revenance.

"…Until we meet again, Zack."

Then he whipped his wing so hard against the air that Zack threw his arm up to cover his eyes, dust swirling around in the abandoned courtyard like squalling cyclones. He looked up to see white feathers floating around him like snow, and Angeal was gone.

He made his way back to the train station wiping his eyes, swinging his arms in deep breaths to get his bearing. He made it all the way back to the Shinra Building, all the way up to SOLDIER wing and stopped…

All four Turks—Tseng, Reno, Rude, Cissnei—were rushing up the stairs toward Lazard's office. That was strange, if they were all at the Shinra Building, who was guarding…

Zack turned on a dime, bash-barreling down to the entrance. He tore out the front doors sprinting like he'd never run in his life through the Fountain District. Forget the train. What kind of a stupid public transit system took a whole hour to go five miles!

He went on foot running with the wind at his back, driving him onward through adrenaline-coursing fear. He made it to Sector 5 with half an hour lead over the Express, dashing through the Wall Market knocking people over, racing for his life against his burning lungs and searing limbs. Wind-sprints up sand-dunes with his sword over his head, Angeal had made him the person who could run this road. Now Zack saw a trail of white feathers leading up to the church, and couldn't breathe.

The rotors of a B1 Alpha Chopper whipped sand at him, making him throw his arms over his eyes. The chopper turned about touching down in front of Zack, and the door slid open as Tseng hung out the side.

"She's not here Zack! Get in!"

Zack leapt into the chopper and they took off racing perhaps toward the very mouth of Hell itself.

.

[Received Titan Bangle]


	12. Chapter 12 - Country Boys

"Do you have any idea where he may have taken her?"

"Modeoheim. That's where Genesis and Hollander are."

"Are you sure?"

"He told me himself."

Tseng and Zack flew in the back of the chopper with a two-man infantry escort, frantically trying to hash out a rescue plan.

"We might need the whole army on this one."

"No, not necessary. Angeal won't hurt her."

"Zack…"

"He won't hurt her!"

A crash. They slammed up against the roof of the chopper as it whirled out of the sky. An impact like a ten-ton MACK truck, and Zack woke up ten minutes later face-down in the snow.

He looked over to see the chopper engulfed in flames, and leapt to his feet.

"Tseng!"

"Over here Zack."

Tseng, the two infantrymen, and the pilot all emerged from behind a snowbank, scraped up but alive. Zack breathed a sigh of relief and went to them.

"No signal out here," Tseng held his phone up.

"Man, what hit us?"

"RPG—a Genesis copy. Looks like they're here after all."

They trekked through the mountains in street clothes looking for some ascent route to a rescue spot.

"Yo Sea Level!" Zack called out to Tseng. "Don't fall too far behind! There aren't any road signs out here!"

But not everyone was a useless tool. Someone was keeping up…an infantryman hiked right in step with Zack.

"At least someone's keeping up," Zack smiled at him. SOLDIER and Security were usually mortal enemies, but hey, out here in the snow everyone was equal. Zack caught the hint of a grin under a field helmet, a young boy's voice still cracking answered him.

"Well, I'm a country boy…"

That caught Zack's interest, might as well strike up conversation now that they were trudging through snow like a bunch of idiots. "You too huh? Where from?"

"Nibelheim."

Zack took one look at the kid, folded his arms, and laughed so hard he spun around.

Oh as if! The Infantry boy took a step toward Zack. "How about you?"

"Me?" Zack looked at him like he had bragging rights. "_Gongaga!_"

The kid snickered.

"Hey! What's so funny about that! You know Gongaga?"

Zack stood there like he was some air-headed champion, and he kinda knew it too, but in Zack's world he could have been from the moon and it would have made it an awesome place to be from. After all, _Zack Fair _was from there!

The kid finally quit chuckling and met Zack's gaze. _Mako eyes? _No, he just had really piercing blue eyes—like Zack had before the surgery.

"No. You know Nibelheim?"

"No, but there's a reactor there, right? A Mako Reactor outside Midgar usually means…"

And he and Zack finished each other's sentence.

"…_Nothing there."_

_The both burst out laughing. _

Wow, the truth sucked. They were both pathetic, backwater boys from backwater towns now stuck back in some godforsaken ice ravine walking around like a couple of tourists.

"Good news Tseng!" Zack called back to the _elite_ Turk. "Me and…" Zack pointed at the kid, realizing he hadn't gotten a name. The infantry boy took off his helmet and smiled.

"Cloud."

His hair was east, sticking up in bleached spearheads that pointed perpetually toward the sun—at least they wouldn't need a compass. He was a skinny kid with a worker's body from swinging heavy tools around all day for no reason other than a boot to the behind if it didn't get done…farm boy, straight up. But a little grin gave him away—and Zack had thought _he _was the puppy.

Zack put his hand on the kid's shoulder and yelled back at Tseng. "Me and Cloud here, we're gettin'er dun gude!"

Cloud chuckled at the mockery of their parents' country accents. Zack winked at him and they continued on up the ravine…while Tseng wheezed up behind them.

"Good. Carry on then. Don't worry about us. We're fine. We don't need help at all." His sarcasm was lost on the ice.

Cloud and Zack went on ahead busting on hick-culture and joking about summer vacation _not _being vacation—seeing as it was harvest season—until they started seeing massive frozen reactor pipes jutting out of the mountainside. That didn't look natural. They got quiet and scouted up ahead.

A massive abandoned power plant resembling the old Wutai Mythril mines lie sequestered in the heart of the ravine. Zack and Cloud got there first.

"The heck?" Cloud muttered.

"Iaunno," replied Zack. "Let's wait for the others before we check it out."

They could barely see Tseng back at the bottom of the trail, they'd be waiting a while. After standing by with their arms crossed for a few minutes, Cloud looked up at the SOLDIER.

"Hey, Zack, uh…"

"Hm?"

Zack looked back at him with a lazy shrug that threw Cloud off. Zack seemed like just a _guy_, like him. Security wing made SOLDIER's out to be these big tough brawlers who chewed tobacco and ate small kittens, but this guy, he seemed pretty cool.

"Um…so what's it like to be SOLDIER?"

Zack cocked his head. "I don't get the question."

"Um…"

Why was this kid so nervous? Zack wasn't going to bite him. Why was his self-confidence in his boots? Cloud was small but not a wimp.

Zack shrugged it off, smiling at the kid in classic _Zack Fair_ fashion. "Well, once you join, you'll know what it's like."

But Cloud seemed to slump, his eyes falling to the steel toes of his boots. "If I can make the cut…"

"Don't sweat it!" Zack jumped around him. "If I can do it, you can too!"

His energy was insane, like a hyperactive kid who stayed perpetually a little boy. It made Cloud smile underneath his shy slump. Plus, he laughed on the inside at Zack's implication. _If someone like ME can do it, what the heck are you worried about?_

Zack peered under his hand at the factory. "Cloud, look…"

He motioned his hand toward the ground, and Cloud caught on immediately to stay low. They crept toward the edge of a cliff overlooking the factory, stalking like lynxes to get a better vantage point. Cloud could walk even quieter than Zack in the snow.

Guards with gas-powered rifles crawled like ants all over the facility. Tseng joined them in time.

"That's a Mako Excavation Test Site," he said. "If there's anywhere for a clone army to germinate, it's there."

Zack nodded, a deathly serious shade crossing his face. "I'll go check it out."

"Our primary objective is to investigate Modeoheim," Tseng retorted. "We can't afford to lose people here."

"Aerith might be down there," said Zack, and Tseng nodded.

"Infiltrate and recon," he ordered. "_Silent hits_."

Zack nodded. The talk about _hits _made Cloud shudder. This guy who had been laughing and smiling a moment ago had turned dark and serious…like a hunter.

Zack threw Cloud a smirk before dashing down the cliff like a phantom in the blurring snow. Once he reached the gateway, he waited until the last guard passed the entryway, and jumped in behind him.

"Hey!" the guard yelled as he spotted Zack.

Well, so much for that plan.

Zack drew his sword to upslice the guard. He flew into flaring figure-eight's to take down the rest of the patrol, which effectively sounded the alarm for the whole facility.

"_ARRRGGHH _Zack, I said _silent _hits!" Tseng ran his hand over his face at the cliff's edge.

Cloud laughed. "He doesn't seem like the _silent _type."

Zack raced ahead with a mean smile as the backup patrol ran at him.

"_Sis boom bah_!" he called, leaping into flying arc-slashes that knocked down guards like bowling pins. He spun his sword with one hand and rushed for the next patrol.

"Helicopter helicopter over my head, I pick the color and the color is…" a spinning spiral-slash knocked four guards out cold. "Hah! You're dead!"

Eight more guards took their place, running at Zack in double-lineout formation.

"Uh-oh!" Zack bounded away like a kid playing laser tag where he wasn't supposed to be.

"Ninja vanish!"

He scurried up a ladder to the facility roof as the guards rounded the corner perplexed. Peering at the group of guards scratching their heads, he leapt down into the fray.

"BANGARANG!"

He spun in a whirling crescent-slash to send them all flying. Man he loved his job!

Zack surveyed the area, strewn with his confirms and none of them moving. A glance back up at the cliff saw Cloud and Tseng jumping up and down, cheering him on.

_Alright, my own entourage!_Zack waved back at them with a huge smile that made them wave their arms even more frantically. Zack threw them a thumbs-up.

A hard clunk on the back of his head sent him toppling to the ground.

Tweety birds. Twirly tweety birds.

.

[Received Phoenix Down]


	13. Chapter 13 - Curtain Call

Zack came to propped against a wall, legs out like he'd been dragged. The face of Cloud engulfed his view, resting his rifle on his knee and checking Zack's eyes for consciousness.

"You missed one," Cloud smirked.

Zack groaned, rubbing the back of his sore head. "Aw man, embarrassing!"

But Cloud's eyes lit up.

"I got him for you," and he pointed over to a guard on the ground next to the hulking indentation of Zack's body in the snow.

"Really? That's _your _confirm?"

The kid gave a shy shrug, and Zack broke out in a mad laughter cupping the side of Cloud's head.

"Forget Tseng, come with me, we'll have more fun!"

And Cloud lit up like a Christmas tree. He was actually getting to work with SOLDIER!

Cloud followed Zack down a loading ramp into the dim entrance tunnel to the facility.

"Get my flank," Zack ordered from up front, and sped up, flowing through the tunnel like running water. The whiz of air, shurikens flew at Zack from his right flank. Genesis clones.

Zack bat the darts away, rushing in a speed-slash to fell all three of them. Where the hell was his flank? He whirled back around on Cloud, who was still jogging up to him.

"Yo!" Zack threw his arms out, "I said get my flank!" He tapped his side, and something in Cloud seemed to click. They continued on.

God, had Zack misjudged him? Maybe he really was just a Security nitwit after all. He'd seemed so smart.

Zack flipped two fingers at the far wall, and Cloud ran over to run parallel with Zack against the other side.

Heh, he'd gotten it that time.

He slowed when Zack slowed, coming to a halt when Zack held up a closed fist at the bay-door entrance. Hm, Zack wanted to try something. He shot a complicated set of hand-motions at Cloud, indicating without words that he was to cover both flanks while Zack charged up the center. All set, Zack ran through the bay doors with Cloud ducking in low behind.

He dashed up the center of an empty hangar bay as a patrol of clones swooped in from all sides with a Judge-mech front-and-center. Zack wondered if he was going to have to take them all himself until a spray of bullets swept from left to right, taking out the copies on both his flanks!

_Ohh,_hand-signals! Cloud was a visual-cue guy! Man, the Security knuckleheads were probably yelling at him day and night for that one. _They _were the real idiots. Now he could see where the self-confidence issues came from.

Zack swept in with a flowing arc-slash, sending three clones flying at the back wall. The Judge-mech took three heavy steps forward to downbash a triton-lance straight at Zack's head. He darted back off a hand. Cloud knew better than to take a shot at the mech while Zack was on it, good man.

Frazzled, the Judge-mech swung a furiously wide lance-swipe, and Zack stabbed straight through its exposed torso without a second thought. It stared dumbfounded for a long moment before falling backward to the floor.

"Booyah!" Zack thrust his hips at the thing before jumping over it to sprint to the end of the hangar bay.

Zack flowed to the ground-level stairs and crouched down, while Cloud slipped over right next to him. Zack cocked a queer eyebrow.

"Did you play baseball or something?"

"Yeah. I was short-stop freshman year."

"Haha! You wore the tight pants!"

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Lemme guess. Waterpolo?"

"Hey! League champion four years in a row! Don't knock it!"

Cloud snickered again.

Two more clones barreled up the stairs waving scimitars. Zack kicked off the railing launching himself at the clones in a flare-slash that took him all the way to the bottom. Cloud flew down behind him three steps at a time, but he didn't go all the way down, he dropped off onto a catwalk overlooking the lower level. Zack sprinted up the middle of the floor, whirling a finger like a lasso at Cloud that told him to _shoot anything that moved!_

Zack dashed in, followed by a rain of bullet-flashburn. Two clones ran at him in a downrain of slices. Zack cross-slashed in figure-eights, leaving a bloody X across their chests as they fell.

A line of four ran at him single-file. He took a wind-up step to power-slash all of them back thirty feet in one shot. A flying sweeping-arcslash that drove a clone up off the ground, an aerial overhead downbash to slam him back to the floor, and Zack looked around to find a couple handfuls of clones scattered to bloody hell all around him.

Then a bullet dinged off his blade.

"_Dahh_!" Zack whipped around with his sword up, about to _wet his pants_.

He looked up bug-eyed to see Cloud crouching with his rifle butt resting on his thigh, barrel pointed skyward, a snide smirk on his face.

_You said shoot anything that moved._

Oh this little punk was showing off! Zack's mouth hung open like he couldn't believe it. Cloud was good with hand-signals, so Zack threw him one more—a huge middle finger.

Cloud made a slow stroking motion with his hand by his crotch in reply, making Zack break out in mad laughter before running on.

Zack hit the main passage as Cloud ran across the catwalk, dropping right in beside him mid-dash. They quick-scanned their lay running like kids through a junkyard, knowing that enemies could pop out of any dark corner or shadow. This must have been how Angeal felt fighting with Zack. When Zack slowed down, Cloud slowed down, cued into each other's body language.

The elevator loomed open in front of them, black feathers reaming its threshold.

"Wait out here. Watch my six." Zack ordered in a low tone, tapping his shoulder so Cloud would get the back-attack cue.

"Do you need a flank-man?"

"No. You're not Mako Infused. Too dangerous."

Cloud sighed, eyes falling to his boots. Whatever beaming energy he'd had going on a minute ago vanished in an instant.

Zack saw the kid slump and smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax man, you'll get your shot!" Cloud looked up to see Zack beaming at him. "SOLDIER is all about having dreams. If it's your dream to get there, you'll get there."

Zack winked at him, setting his light anew. Like a shadow, he flowed into the elevator and it descended into hell knew what evils.

The elevator rambled at the bottom, and Zack saw a grisly scene unfolding before him. Genesis stalked toward a shaking Hollander, his red Curtana poised at his fleshy throat. Zack rushed to the metal folding-doors aghast before even fully docking. If Genesis killed Hollander, who was going to cure Angeal?

Genesis leered at Hollander, grey locks of dust hair beginning to show on his alabaster vestige.

"The Jenova Cells," he demanded.

"But, nobody knows where the Jenova cells are being kept!" taunted Hollander. "Not even Hojo knows! You'll never find them!"

The elevator docked and Zack ripped the doors ajar. He lashed his sword out at the scene, but saw something that made him freeze, a calling-card red ring around Genesis' irises.

_Dancer eyes._

Zack joked about it all the time, but this time, it was really Dancer. This guy was _actually tripping balls_ off Dancer! He was probably seeing Zack in infrared right now. This _doctor _was his supplier and that's how he'd weaseled his way into all of their lives, through the weak spot of one introvert's dirty little secret…a very dirty habit.

"Then I shall willingly accept my fate." The mad seraph held his Curtana like a composer's wand. He brought the blade to his face so he could run a gloved hand up its smooth edge, gazing at it like a proclamation. "But, I'll take the world with me!"

He bash-slammed at Zack who upthrust into his blade, a one-two double-slash exchange that had Zack reeling back spinning his sword to recover. He dodged a straight-thrust and grabbed Genesis' sword arm, who grabbed Zack's in turn to lock up in fighter's tie-up. Zack shoved him away as Genesis stepped around him with a high downslash straight to his shoulder. Zack threw his blade overhead to block the bladecrash as they both spun away. Zack's sword flared out behind him, while Genesis stealth-held his backhanded, awaiting.

"Where's Aerith?" Zack demanded, bloodrage in his Mako eyes. But Genesis flipped a hand, whipping hair out of his _Dancer_ eyes.

"I'm afraid your prose is lackluster for my understanding."

"Alright, WHERE'S MY GIRLFRIEND YOU GODDAMN TWEAKER! Where's Angeal?"

A grunt, and the peering of red eyes. "Angeal is in Modeoheim, at a bathhouse on the outskirts of town, having his way with your little flower."

Zack yelled in a rage raring for Genesis. They rush-slammed into each other's blades with the energy of charging bucks, sending sheering orange sparks flying over the grated floor. Genesis weaved his blade underneath Zack's in a sheerfractal upslash, knocking the sword skyward out of Zack's hand. Time slowed for the SOLDIER as he backstepped in tune with his own blade, catching it backhanded and slash-twirling around to sheer Genesis in a crescent-flash. A bash-parry deflected him, sweeping into a fulminating arcing upslice that Zack backstrafed away from like a slitting cobra. He handsprung away from the mad angel, landing legs spread and sword flared, ready to rush him again in a rage.

Genesis stalked toward Zack in prophetic doom, accepting his challenge. A yell from Zack and he rushed him again, catching his sword arm one more time. They tied up in fighter's stalemate, but this time Zack had a plan. He slammed his forehead into Genesis to knock him back, circling for a strike that came as a dinging downbash on Zack's blade. Zack up-parried, sweeping around in a spiraling arc-slash, but Genesis leapt to the sky.

He descended a one-winged fiend, floating down to the ground in prophetic resonance. His feet touched the ground for a split second, then rushed straight at Zack in a blurred flare.

Genesis hit him in a wave of dark energy, sending Zack flying against the far wall surrounded in specters of blacklight. They seeded bolts of energy from him, syphoning his strength so that his vision blurred. His muscles locked, going numb, catatonia setting in like darkness closing in on his line of sight, a window into the world becoming smaller and smaller. The image of someone with bleach-hair and blue eyes filled Zack's vision.

Cloud leapt in front of Zack, unscrewing the top off a Shinra Potion bottle as fast as he could. He dumped it on Zack right as a Firaga bolt hit him square in the side, sending him flying across the grating. Zack leapt up in a flash with renewed strength, bash-careening swipes at Genesis to get him away from Cloud. He seared electric energy off his blade, took a reeling wind-up step back, and swung a Hell-Thundaga into a power-slash that blasted the mad angel straight to the brink of unconsciousness.

The dark seraph shuddered on the ground, his wing fanned out like a shorn cloak. His wing struggled to flare out, like the dying breath of a great bird of prey. He struggled to his feet in a stumbling tirade like a marionette.

"_Even if the morrow is barren of promises. Nothing shall forestall my return_."

Slow, he stammered in backsteps toward the far ledge. His vision was blurry now, the world before him disappeared around the image of a young SOLDIER, a dark warrior standing silent with his sword. A rage flew threw his winged vestige, a howling despair resonating in a sweeping finality.

"_If this world seeks my destruction…_it goes with me."

Genesis took one more step over the ledge, falling down into darkness. Zack ran to the edge to see his body disappear into the abyss.

Something about the fall hit him, a SOLDIER 1st Class was dead.

Zack ran to Cloud, propping his unconscious body up against the wall. He cast Full Life to wake him up, checking his pulse as he came back in blinking fits. He gasped as his health returned to him like a cold liquid blood-transfusion.

"Hey, you okay?" Zack shook his shoulder a little. Cloud saw a blurry face engulf his view. When it cleared up to reveal Zack, Cloud threw him a slight smile.

He grabbed Cloud's hand and pulled him to his feet.

.

[Cloud is added to the DMW]


	14. Chapter 14 - Honor

Zack and Cloud left the facility together. Hollander had slipped out a service hatch during the fight and evaded them, but there was only one way off the mountain, and it lead to the same place they were going. Modeoheim.

Tseng and the others had vanished as well, but footprints in the snow showed their path. An ice tunnel for bulldozers and transport mechs cut a passage through the mountains. Zack and Cloud started down it side by side, talking to pass the time.

"Who's messing with you? I want names! I'll go down there and straighten them out myself!" Zack fumed when Cloud told him about his run-in's with Security grunts in the lockerroom.

"Thanks but that'd probably only make it worse."

"Not if I do it! As soon as they see a black shirt, they'll go hide under their beds and never bother you again. Trust me."

Cloud looked over at him. Zack was pretty high-ranking, wasn't he? He seemed to give two damns about Cloud, who did potentially save his life from that Fira bolt back there. It didn't take Zack long to get Cloud talking.

Cloud said his mom had sent him to some ultra-strict proto-religious academy. An only child raised by a single mom, Cloud never had a "best friend" or anyone to confide in growing up. That bothered Zack a lot, in his mind everyone should have someone to call "bro." Life wasn't worth living without that!

Zack told him once he got into SOLDIER though, things would get better, which seemed to lift Cloud's spirits. He asked about what it was like working with the "Big Ones," did he ever get to work with Sephiroth? Zack laughed and said those guys were just kind of _there_. They were these illusive entities that strutted around SOLDIER wing out of uniform as a deranged form of performance incentive; like if they all just _worked harder _they could someday be that cool.

"_Pfft_," even Cloud wasn't buying that.

Zack started to talk about Angeal and how he wasn't like that though. He was one of the "Big Ones," so to say, and still wore the uniform and associated with the other SOLDIER's. He was Zack's mentor and best friend. He told Cloud about how he'd taken Zack on as a student, about all the things Angeal had done to keep him in line, about broken swords in the training room, about…

And Zack started to get quiet, a brining energy draining from his body. Cloud saw him phase, a sense of something heavy as they walked. Zack seemed much older than he had a moment ago, and Cloud sensed some unearthly burden weighing on his shoulders.

"You can vent about it if you want," he told Zack, not even sure if that was really what was up. He thought he'd hit it pretty close to on the money though when Zack started rubbing the back of his head.

"It's a long story."

Cloud looked around, just to make sure they weren't doing anything important…They were walking in the middle of an ice cave road that nobody used for anything important to go to a town that nobody important lived in, and it didn't look like they were going to get there anytime soon.

"…I've got time."

Zack smirked, and started talking.

He told him about the craziness that had been going on in SOLDIER, about Wutai and the events that followed, even about Aerith and why Zack was out there in the godforsaken mountains in the first place. There was no reason to hold anything back now. Cloud's mouth hung open in awe.

"Whoa…I'm sorry Zack."

The SOLDIER shrugged, hands in his pockets like there wasn't much he could do.

"You don't think he'd actually hurt her, do you?" asked Cloud.

Zack went silent for a long moment. "…Look, let's run okay?"

Cloud agreed, and they started off at a good pace heading for Modeoheim.

They reached the end of the tunnel with lungs burning. Cloud had kept pace with Zack the whole way. They stood out on a snowcapped plateau lined with rustic cabins, the mountain village of Modeoheim.

"Looks deserted," Cloud noted. Zack explained that it had once been a site considered for a reactor location, but once the plans were abandoned so was the village.

Now Zack and Cloud looked around on full-alert. The cabins were dilapidated and falling apart at the foundations. Signs posted along the main road pointed to several outlying areas, one reading "ICICLE INN" to the North.

They found the bathhouse where Genesis said it would be, a brownstone building on the outskirts of town. It had a door recently, judging by the freshly splintered frame.

They whipped around at the sound of footsteps behind them.

"Tseng!" Zack called to the Turk, who stood with his hands up. But he was alone. "Where are the others?"

"I sent them up the mountain to go find a cell spot. If they get reception we can call in an extraction team. Are you two okay?"

Zack flipped his sword onto his back and put a hand on Cloud's shoulder. "Yeah, we're good. We took care of the clone problem back at the facility."

Cloud looked up at Zack. He'd said _we. _But Zack's tone became serious. "Genesis is dead."

Tseng nodded. "Don't count on it. We saw Hollander flee the facility and trailed him here. He ran in there…"

They peered into the bathhouse. A breathing entryway leered at them like an open maw, inviting them into the black gullet of some dark monstrosity. They all three shot each other serious glances, drew their weapons, and proceeded on.

Inside was a dilapidated stone and wood foyer, caked with grime and black mold. Snowglare streamed in through half-boarded windows reflecting off broken glass. The bathhouse split into two separate sections, leading down to different parts of the building.

"Let's split up," said Tseng. Cloud looked over at Zack, who nodded for him to go with Tseng. He nodded back in understanding—their silent codespeak. They split off with Zack taking the left way down into a darker part of the building.

He went through a brick archway into the bathhouse proper, vaulted granite ceilings over a tiled marble bathing pool. The grime and grout was inches thick over sheets of factory windows, an old-world aesthetic poking through neo-noir grunge.

The glint of something silver caught Zack's eye—a low-walled wading fountain. He went over to it, something gleamed over the wall. A silver chain lay discarded in the bath. He picked it up—sterling forget-me-nots.

"AERITH!" he screamed, taking off running through the bathhouse in a mad panic. "AERITH!"

He dashed down a hallway, kicking in a door to his left. Empty. He ran on barreling through every door and calling out her name. Cold adrenaline coursed through his veins, the icy fingers of fear closing around his neck.

Gunfire sounded, and the echoing impact of fists on the other side of the bathhouse. Zack barreled back toward the baths, careened to the other wing up to a balcony. There, he found Cloud face-down on the ground.

"Cloud, talk to me!" he ran to him, turning him over gently.

Cloud coughed and sputtered in pain.

"_Ngh_…I threw up."

"It's alright."

Zack helped him sit up, leaning him forward on his knee. He rubbed his back trying to help him breathe. Cloud shook cringing.

"I'm sorry Zack—"

"No, no, don't try to talk," Zack shushed him. "You did great."

Zack moved in front of him, supporting his head. "You know what day it is Cloud?" He palpated his neck and jawline, feeling for abnormalities to indicate injury.

"…S-Sunday."

"Good man, how old are you?" He moved onto his chest, compressing with a hand on his back.

"Sixteen."

Quick pressure on four quadrants of his stomach, good. He moved onto his legs, quick clutches around his thighs and knees, Zack's strong hands providing calming pressure as well as assessment. Cloud stopped shaking.

No serious injuries, _AVPU times four. __H_e'd taken one hell of a hammer-punch to the solar-plexus plus a few other places. Zack helped him lean his head down on his arms.

"You just rest here a while, okay?"

Cloud nodded. Zack patted him on the back and got up even though he really didn't want to leave him alone.

Tseng lied propped up against the wall, struggling to breathe. Zack ran over to him and knelt down.

_Meh,_Tseng looked no worse for wear.

"Down that way…" the Turk pointed to an open doorway, "you have to catch Hollander…"

Zack beheld a squared archway stretching into darkness, a low brooding tunnel like an entrance unto Hell. Tseng looked straight on into nowhere.

"Angeal…is waiting for you."

Zack absorbed those words, giving a single somber nod in understanding. He rose to his feet, a prophetic tractor beam exuding from the dark doorway to reel him in. He strode through a sentient magnetic portal to another realm.

Zack felt his way along the walls to stairs that lead up. Up forever he tread, thinking about what he would do if he saw red eyes…oh God, please don't let him see red eyes…

He came out onto leveled ground and a lighted area, taking stock of his surroundings. Torn up parquet floors, the remains of rafters, a tattered curtain that blew in the wind where the rotted frame of a window hung on like a champion.

And there, in the center of the ruin and wreckage, he saw him…

A one-winged angel, standing stoic with his back to his student, gazing lost and listless out into nowhere.

…Zack went to him, to stand near him, just to be close to him. Hands in pockets, he shuffled his feet with eyes glued to his steel toes. A heaviness seemed to loom over both of their heads, a deepness lingering somewhere between uncertainty and shame.

Now Angeal stared across the landscape, a sentient wing wafting in the wind like a torn veil.

"It should have been me who dealt with Genesis," he spoke from far away, a soft voice that was both solid and sad. Zack looked out across the farscape with him, a distance of the soul exchanged as they stood near one another. With a voice that came from the same far off place that Angeal's had, Zack replied to his mentor.

"Then why'd you send me?"

Angeal turned, and Zack gasped in relief. _Blue eyes_, deep and brooding as oceans, clear as acrylic skies. His mentor had not betrayed him…or so he thought before Angeal's sword came up.

"To prepare you for your next fight."

And he slashed at Zack in a fury.

"Stop!" But another slice careened at him, forcing him back, goading him to fight for his life. Zack held his hand out to halt him, his sword hand hung helpless at his side.

"...Angeal if you raise your sword to me you're going to kill me, and do it now! Kill me then, because you know I won't raise mine to you!"

Angeal's sword remained steady, poised at Zack for the kill, but his hand shook like for want of drink. After a long moment and a frustrated _harrumph_, he let his blade fall. Zack breathed, but it brought him no comfort…If Angeal's aim wasn't to kill Zack, why was he trying to fight him?

"There's no way out Zack. You're my student no longer, I have nothing left to teach you. You're a 1st like me now, and my time is done."

Zack reached for him, both arms dying to get a hold of this absolute disaster they'd both slammed head-on into.

"Angeal, we'll go to other doctors."

"There are no other doctors!"

"Then we'll go to Sorceresses! We'll do whatever we have to do. I'll do whatever it takes, remember?"

"You don't understand, Zack. I'm bound to this scientist as Genesis was! The transfusion, a fate I saved my youngest brother from."

Zack gasped…_Sephiroth?_

"Please! Come with me. Let's run away. Leave this all behind."

"And where would we run to, Zack? Where would we go!"

"I don't know Angeal! Anywhere away from this Hell!"

Angeal threw his arms out wide. "You said you wanted to be a hero, well here's your chance! What are you waiting for?"

He slammed his fist against his heart, marking the place for Zack to pierce his blade. But when the boy that was once his student stood locked in fear, Angeal lowered his arms.

"...Or does someone wait for you?"

Zack couldn't help it, he froze. A darkness so austere fell over his heart, an urgency more than a million years old. Angeal knew how to force Zack's hand.

"…Don't do this…" Zack warned, a dark laserbeam gaze painting a new target for the young SOLDIER. Something stirred deep in his core, an emotion primal and feral, culminating in a distal, tempered rage.

They circled like lions, Zack's hand edging toward his sword. He drew it like a low threatening growl. Someone had tread on his territory. Angeal saw the phase, the transition from hunter…to killer. Now Zack finally knew what it meant to grow up.

The flash of steel, both swords slammed together throwing scraping sparks in whirling arcs. Crossed blades, Angeal forced Zack's down, and they glared at each other as mortal enemies. How had it come to this?

Hands. Clapping. Hollander appeared from the shadows.

"Very good, Angeal! It is time to exact vengeance for _our family's_ suffering!"

"Family?" Zack peered at the squat man and back at his mentor. But Angeal flew into a rage.

"No! My father is dead!" He flung Zack out of the way with a vicious swipe, eyes transfixed on another enemy.

"Then do it for your mother," leered Hollander, driving Angeal over the edge.

"My mother's shame…made her take her own life!"

Zack gasped at Angeal. The flash of his mother lying dead on the floor, the image of Angeal standing like a living shadow over her body, the impact of Zack's fist straight to his face. He hadn't fought back. Now Angeal stood blurry against the sky, fading from Zack's semblance of life. A million pieces seemed to square in a single rushing moment, reaching for Angeal with eyes that shook from side to side in disbelief.

Zack had misjudged him, and furthermore…

_You let me._

Hollander leered like a leprechaun at the dark angel, teeth flashing like fangs against lips that curled into a conniving grin.

"Your mother should have been proud that she was the namesake for our experiment. _Project G_, Or should I say, _Project Gillian_."

Then Angeal's sword left Zack to point at Hollander, and Zack found his own blade following, not caring what it was pointing at as long as it pointed in the same direction as Angeal's.

"_Don't_ say her name," Angeal growled, tears welling in his ocean eyes. The squat man laughed, flinging spittle as he spoke.

"Gillian, the woman implanted with Jenova Cells. Genesis, who had her genes mapped onto him during the fetal stage. Yes, Genesis was a failure, I'll admit it. But you, Angeal..." He waved his arms out like the unveiling of an Ark. "_You_ were actually bred inside Gillian's body. You were my success, my life's work, my golden child. You…are…perfection!"

Angeal rushed forward, forearm slamming against the fat man. He picked him up and threw him from the edge of the building. Hollander screamed before landing in a snowbank unconscious, or very possibly dead. _Good riddance, _thought Zack, at least he was out of their lives. Now, once again, it was him and Angeal, holding their swords along with their hearts in their hands.

Angeal paced in a mad rush to the other side of the room, desperate eyes pleading panicked at something that couldn't be seen with eyes alone. He turned to Zack in a flash.

"Zack, I am perfect. A perfect...monster. My cells can absorb genetic traits, and pass them along to others. Do you remember what I said about our enemy being all that creates suffering?"

Zack shook his head, refusing Angeal's words.

"I can create suffering. And now, I am a two-way conduit. _Her_ power has passed onto me completely."

"_What are you talking about? _Whose power?"

"Zack, let me show you."

He touched two fingers to his brow, and a dawning radiance emanated from his feet all the way up to his eyes. Billowing waves of sheerlight swept in black tendrils around Angeal's glowing body, Zack never knew darkness could be so bright. Angeal cried out in pain and agony, his body was changing, transfiguring, transforming. A mutant manifestation emerged from where there was once a man, and Zack beheld with horror a gargantuan, daemonic centaur. A horned vestige crowned a face that vaguely resembled Angeal's, and in a clawed hand rested a massive partisan lance. With a harrowing roar and a stomping hoof, the monster reeled at Zack, who stood back aghast.

"Angeal," Zack whispered to himself. "What happened to honor?"

The monster answered in a deadening roar and an overhead downbash of a partisan. Zack leapt away, diverolling under heavy swipes that buffeted the air behind him. He counterslashed in a terrified blur as his blade bashed off the lance head. Slashing with everything he had now, holding his hilt in the Way of the Rising Sun just like Angeal had taught him, he flashed back to his mentor instructing him in fencing, teaching him how to hold the sword—his first lesson in sword fighting.

Now he leapt out of the way as a lance bashed into the floor at his feet, a guttural roar and the stampeding of hooves blaring in its wake. Zack dash-parried the massive weapon careening for another slice at him, he barely whisked it over his head as he darted away. The demon centaur charged him in a bull rage, and Zack remembered gentler notes of wisdom.

He sat cross-legged with Angeal in the training room as he showed Zack how to clean his blade, polishing it with cloth and diamond paste.

"_In circles, not lines. If you wouldn't put your hand on a woman that way, why would you do it to your sword?"_

Zack corrected his motion by copying Angeal, who had inadvertently taught him something about girls as well.

A syphoning fury-crash ripped the rest of the roof down, the partisan slamming against the floor again and again as Zack ducked and dodged out of the way. He kept his eyes fixated on his target, his life depended on him not losing focus.

_"Concentrate,"_Angeal had said to him sitting in the lotus pose. But as Zack sat there in _quarter-lotus_—seeing as the last time he'd tried to get into full lotus he'd almost killed himself—his thoughts banged around in his head like a shattered jar of marbles. He groaned in frustration. Angeal stopped him, holding two fingers in front of his eyes, and bid him follow them. He moved his fingers from side to side, up and down, in diagonal crosses and circles, then made Zack close his eyes. He touched his two fingers between Zack's eyes, and there it was, in the midst of hyperactivity his mom had tried to stick him on meds for when he was a kid, the first time he'd ever felt it in his life…pure calm.

_So this is what it's like._

Angeal, the only person who could hold Zack's attention for an iota of time, the only one who understood.

One more slam into the floor made Zack strafe back with tears in his eyes. He couldn't do this.

He remembered being late, carrying the massive punching bag up the sand dune as Angeal yelled beside him.

_"This is your passage into manhood. If you can't do this then you're a disgrace to the SOLDIER name. GET. UP. THIS. HILL!"_

Zack cried and coughed and struggled, sweat pooling down his face and arms, one foot after the other. His boots sunk into the sand like every step he took was the equivalent of three steps back, and his shoulders burned like liquid hot knives being jammed and twisted around in his flesh. Finally, flat ground, the top of the sand dune. Zack threw the punching bag down as Angeal threw his arms around him.

_"Would you believe me if I told you this isn't the hardest thing you'll ever do in life?"_

One last life-altering blow that sent splintered floorboards flying like flechette darts, and one final flash of a man Zack once knew in a dream.

Angeal stormed toward Zack in SOLDIER wing as the kid pulled out his cell phone clock, insisting that he wasn't late. Angeal wrapped a huge paw around Zack's head, pulling him into his chest and holding him there like that for a long moment. Zack could feel him shaking.

"_You be good, kid."_

And then he let go of him, whisking off to Lazard's office. Zack watched him go with a confused and bewildered expression, head cocked sideways like a puppy. He was too young to understand, some things weren't for him, some things were private.

Now the monster reared up, and Zack saw the opening, the concave indentation over its heart marking the place for his blade to pierce, making it easy for him. He had to take it. Zack slashed with all he was in life, screaming the name of his best friend.

"ANGEAL!" His voice echoed like a call in deep water as his sword pierced flesh, sending black blood and a mottled roar spewing across their rotted parquet arena.

The creature staggered, snorted, stumbled about in a mad frenzy before the black light returned to envelope it. Harrowing beams of eifel luminescence throttled the monster in a tangle of silver tentacles, beaming straylight surges that dissolved the form of the unholy centaur, leaving a man with a Buster Sword lying on the ground against the sky.

Zack threw his sword away, like he used to throw it across the training room during bouts of frustration, and ran to Angeal. He knelt down next to his fallen form, hurrying to him, to help, to do something, but the horror registered like falling snow that all the potions and elixirs in the world would be useless now.

Angeal laid there in a dusted blue pallor, the degradation finally gaining a foothold in a war that had been being waged since before Zack entered this man's life. His wing fanned out like a dirty carpet, no longer sentient, all life seeming to rush from its dull feathers. Amid the ruined bathhouse and the biting razorwind cold, he smiled up at Zack like he'd never been happier in his life.

"Zack, you have my thanks," he struggled to form weak words. Like a relic, he offered his sword to his student. "This…is for you."

Zack gazed with whirling eyes that looked to the sword and to the man, but Angeal was grinning. Hesitating, holding back the urge to fall over him, to curl up with him and go wherever he was headed, Zack reached out his hands to the hilt. He took it as a sacred gesture, knowing it was for him, the deepest expression of respect he could manage to muster. The sword wasn't heavy for him, Angeal had trained him to carry it, all this time.

The fading vestige of Angeal smiled up at him, everything he'd always wanted to say to Zack swirling in his star-crossed gaze, all revealed now in the stillness of ocean eyes. He struggled to draw breath, and spoke up at Zack with great and proud effort.

"Protect your honor, always. It's the one thing you have that no one can ever take away."

And Angeal laid his head back on the parquet floor, closing his eyes. A radiant peace seemed to settle on him like a silk veil being drawn over his face, and Zack gasped. Unable to grasp the reality in front of him, unwilling to accept that he was really gone, Zack held the sword hard to his brow, like he'd seen someone do once, a long time ago. Amid falling tears and shaking wrists, he made a promise to himself right then and there that resounded deep in his core, a sacred oath binding him in brotherhood and death. He never got to tell Angeal the only thing he'd ever wanted to say.

For a moment, just a moment, he felt strong hands on his shoulders, and a voice speaking to him deep in his heart.

_Embrace your dreams._

But it faded, flying away to someplace Zack couldn't follow, that he would never be able to reach in this semblance of life.

The sun was fading fast now, setting in a crimson hue over the nautilus of arctic steppes. A break in the clouds amid verga-strewn storm cells opened a gateway to a higher realm. The skies turned red, and far away a blood-ringed sun set one more time over Midgar.

.

[Received Buster Sword]


	15. Chapter 15 - Time

Angeal was sparring with Zack in the training room when it happened—the one time he'd laid a hand on his student in anger.

"Alright Zack, you've got five minutes," he called to his young student in a sing-songy voice.

Zack was pacing like an angry tiger around the training room again, his sword flung clear to the other side. Angeal was young once too. He knew Zack's post-teenage brain was still jumbling around up in that thick skull, trying its best to sort itself out in a blind haze of weird chemicals and anger issues. Maybe it really had been Angeal's fault today. After all, he admitted, sometimes he set Zack off on purpose just to see him wig out.

Now the kid paced in a half-running march, swearing up a frustrated storm.

"This is stupid! Why are we even training like this? I'm never going to get it. Why don't you just give up on me now!"

Angeal laughed, which only seemed to frustrate Zack even more. The cursing and self-depreciating self-talk continued in a rage as Zack tried to figure out what he wanted to put a first through in the first place, and why.

"Okay Zack, it's been ten minutes. Pick up your sword."

"No."

"Come on Zack," Angeal coaxed, like a stern parent who was running out of patience.

"No! I'm done with this! I'm through!"

"That's nice Zack. Now go pick up your sword."

Angeal possessed the patience of a saint, he would have been a great father. Today though, Zack whirled on him with a fury that trumped hurricanes, hot tears welling in his eyes.

"Why? You don't care about me! You're only training me for the Apprentice pay!"

Angeal snapped in an instant, his fist flying straight into Zack's face. Zack flew across the training room hitting his head on the ground, and passed out as Angeal stood stunned.

Zack woke up in phases of blurry and clear, feeling strong hands palpating his brow. He knew he was in the medical bay, and groaned as he tried to push the medic's hand away, until he saw that he was still in the training room propped up on a chair.

Angeal's hands swept the gash over his eye with a cotton swab from a pocket first-aid kit, his fixed gaze intent and focused on making sure Zack didn't need stitches. There was alcohol on the swab that made Zack wince in pain. Angeal let up whenever he cringed, tending to him like a child who fell off his bike.

"The way this is _supposed _to work," he explained to Zack in an even tone, "is that I give you a taskbook with various skillsets in it. I take you out on a few missions, sign off that you completed the tasks, your booklet goes on Lazard's desk and you get in line with every other 2nd Class who's applied to be a 1st. You're in and out of my life in a month, and I get the bonus when you turn in your taskbook."

He pinched the cut together with his bare hands, not caring if Zack's blood got on him, and put a butterfly bandage over it to seal the wound. Zack's anger faded like a squall, and the sadness set in, threatening to consume him where he sat. Angeal looked at Zack with eyes that regarded him like calm seas.

"Have I ever given you a taskbook, Zack?" He looked up at Angeal then, with little boy eyes that were holding in a smile. The big man did the same as he put a strong hand on Zack's shoulder. "And I never will."

Angeal Hewley, a man who took care of his own, that's just the kind of guy he was.

After being kidnapped, Aerith had awoken on the floor of a dark room in a place she didn't recognize. She saw him kneeling at a small coffee table in front of her, sipping hot tea from a pinming cup. She sat up frightened, hugging her knees against her chest, and he hushed her with soothing sounds. He poured her a cup of her own and beckoned to her, saying that if he was going to hurt her, he would have done it already.

The place they were was so foreign to her, the floorboards were wood and unvarnished. There was a space heater blaring full blast nearby her, and the windows were shuttered so she couldn't see the sky. He said he didn't want to take that from Zack. He said that Zack had always tried to help him, but now it was time for him to help Zack. She saw him in the shadows, a brooding darkness stirring deep within his soul, and felt that he was troubled.

"I'm a peer-counselor," she told him, "maybe you'd like to talk to me?"

He thanked her in a soft voice, telling her she was a sweet girl, and that Zack was very lucky to have her in his life. She stiffened up then, these SOLDIER types, the old-school veterans who wouldn't bare themselves to anyone lest they be considered weak. The only way to get them to talk was to appear stronger than they were. So little Aerith, eighteen years old, took a breath and looked him straight in the eye.

"I know I'm a good person, and I seem like a sweet girl, but when Shinra detribalized the Wutai clans, a lot of their warriors ended up homeless in Midgar. Without an army or a country to fight for any longer, they drifted, purposeless, into crime, into drugs, into anything that would dull the pain of their meaningless existence. And I counseled them all. I've sat listening to men tell stories about terrible things, heinous crimes they'd committed in wars, horrible things they'd done to women and children, violence they'd done to themselves. They tell me how they beat their wives, how they've bludgeoned men they would have died for, how they've hurt animals. A man told me about a horrible thing he'd done to a girl once, and I helped him find the strength to turn himself into authorities. I am a sweet girl, I am a good person, but I help people, and I'm here to help you too, if you want me to."

And Angeal had looked at her with a soft smile. After moments went by that seemed to last for years, showing her in the flowering of her youth, he'd taken a deep breath, and started talking.

He talked about his wife and little girl, how he was sad that he would never see them again. Zack had come into his life at the same time they'd walked out, and he loved the boy like he was his own child. These are things that men can never say to each other, that only the women who love them see as they sit quietly in the shadows watching them hurt each other.

He talked about his fears, about whether there was anything on the other side, and whether or not it was worth fighting for. He talked about his failures, how he couldn't prevent anything that had happened from happening, how in the midst of his incredible physical strength, he felt weak beyond powerless. He talked about his hopes for the future, that Midgar and the people he swore an oath to protect would one day be able to rise out of the darkness, and lastly, he talked about his dreams.

When he was done talking, he shed a single tear, and told her it was time to go back to sleep. He cast the magic on her, covered her with a blanket, and left to carry out his last mission.

When she awoke, she was in her church in the Slums, while Turks in black suits hovered all over her with flashlights. They'd asked her if they could take a "kit," as _evidence_, and she'd screamed at them that he was a nice man.

She'd kicked them out then, some terrible anger coming over her. She who was so understanding with everyone threw them out of a _church_. She'd crouched down by the flowers then, and spoke to them about what happened, about how she'd been a little scared but felt better now. She, who comforted everyone, was counseled by the flowers.

When Zack entered the church, it was late, and the moonlamps were in full glow. She saw him standing tall with a Buster Sword on his back, striding toward her in a way that made her not recognize him.

"Where did you get that, Zack?" she asked as she went to him. But he said nothing, staring straight ahead with a dead look in his glazed eyes. She ran to him, fear edging her voice. "Zack! Where did you get that sword!"

He fell onto her, falling to the floor, and screamed. She caught him as the full weight of his being toppled down onto her, the weight of his sword landing solid on the ground. He screamed a dying man's screams wreathing in pain and agony, crying up at the rafters, calling to the ceiling, clawing at Aerith's orchid arms. His moaning wails echoed in the church like the ending of the world, vast bleating sobs that burned his chest and tore at his bleeding heart. He cried for a life lost in the snow and ice, that cold place where a part of him would never return from.

Clutching at Aerith's dress for dear life, he screamed to the stars in the sky to take him too.

"I'll go there myself! To wherever he's gone! Those wings, I want them too!"

"No Zack," she hushed him with a soft kiss. "Stay here with me, where you're loved."

Aerith rocked him tight against her heart, with arms like ivy vines that wrapped around him like a net, holding him fast against the night. Something in him died there in the dark, lying on the floor in Aerith's ivy arms.

How does one heal from wounds of the spirit? How can a soul be splinted up and bandaged back to life? Time is the answer. Time fogs over old memories, blurring the distance between body and event, an ever-thickening pallor that settles like dust over old photographs. Time was the answer for Zack, passing like a blur of wings in the stillness of the sky.

No one said anything to Zack, no one mentioned Angeal's name, as if he'd been stricken from the records…like he never existed. Without a Critical Incident Stress Debriefing, without any R&amp;R, without the slightest reprieve whatsoever from overhead, Zack took his Buster Sword in hand, spun it onto his back, and went back to work.

He no longer spiked his hair, he slicked it back like Angeal's, ignoring the one lone strand over his eye that refused to stay down—like a rebel. He threw his whole heart into his work, adhering to the principals of duty and honor like religion, rising to become a kind of spiritual symbol of SOLDIER for younger members to look up to. And look up to him, they did, standing so tall his aura touched the sky. The everyday challenges became greater, and Zack rose to the call for all of them, greater still. In that next year, he buried two more friends.

Aerith was always there, to listen, to hold him, to tell him when he was right, and when he was wrong. She became the strong pillar that held up his being, burning like a flaring candle in his darkness, casting shadows that guided him when he was lost. How many times had he laid across her lap in the church, her fingers sweeping the side of his face, staring a thousand miles out into nowhere? Now it was Aerith's turn to brush his hair out of his eyes, and hold him up like the strong SOLDIER they both knew he was.

As the fog of time pushed painful events further and farther out of reach, he began to smile again, to reconnect with his friends, to laugh. The training room brought him joy again, and he used the Train Graveyard mission as a baseline to hone his skills, keeping himself as sharp as the Buster Sword he carried on his back like a sentinel.

The simulation Paragon attack chopper raced to the target on an immediate need striketeam, while Zack flowed into go-mode like a predator, scanning the LZ in textbook procedure…like he'd been trained. The roof of the rushing bullet-train leered at him as he hung out the chopper doorway, awaiting the drop codes to jump.

"_Operator is ready for insertion."_

He had it. _He had it…_He lost it.

"_Pfffffftt_ hahaha!" Zack burst out laughing as the pilot glared back at him. "I'm sorry, really, I had it, but I just can't keep a straight face with that op code."

"Dammit Fair! Get serious!"

"Never! I'll never stop dreaming!" And he leapt like an angel flying down onto the train.

Squad Leader Zack Fair, SOLDIER 1st Class, a man who took care of his own, that's just the kind of guy he was. High-level missions were nothing to fear as long as Zack was their spearhead, a beacon of hope for every young cadet to follow, their gilded centurion.

He stood tall and beaming as he walked the ranks of rookies and infantrymen, preparing to take them out on their first mid-level mission. He stopped though as he caught sight of someone he knew, putting his hand on the shoulder of bleach-blonde hair and blue eyes that beamed back at him.

"So, you want to be in SOLDIER?" he smiled at the kid, winking at him with shining eyes. "Don't stop dreaming."

He stood before them on the hangar bay, all of them bright-eyed and full of hope. As Zack stood tall they seemed to stand up with him, and he found his calling in life. He drew his Buster Sword, held it to his brow in silent prayer, and resolved to forever be the light that pierced through darkness.

Then, Zack ran with them from the hangar bay, leading them out to take on whatever the world would throw at them.

After so much fighting, so much fear and doubt, things looked like maybe they were going to be okay at Shinra, and maybe Zack was going to be okay too.

.

[Received Champion Belt]


	16. Chapter 16 - Costa Del Sol

But Zack wasn't okay.

After Shinra Security Forces apprehended Hollander and transported him to a Supermax facility on an island, Zack rode back on the floor of a Chinook Airbus…crouching next to a bodybag.

Some weeks later, a scientist had approached him with information about new drug therapies that were proving effective in the treatment of mood disorders. Zack beat him into a bloody pulp against the wall. The incident was logged and documented.

The Psych Evaluation showed that Zack was "overworked," citing his behavior around SOLDIER wing as _post-traumatic. _Two days later, he found his schedule blued-over with the word "VACATION," and furthermore that his bags had already been packed for him.

The Turks whisked him off to Costa del Sol, a beach resort on the private estate of the Shinra royal family. Zack found himself reclined on a beach chair in white sand, staring aimlessly up into the sun. Staff were instructed not to touch him when he was like that, as startling a SOLDIER 1st Class was dangerous. They served him lemonade he didn't ask for, and left him to wonder how he got there.

The most ridiculous thing by far was the "debriefing sessions" Zack had been ordered to attend. He sat on a sofa in an air-conditioned room while an older man reclined in a leather chair.

"Tell me about your childhood, Zack."

Zack squinted. _Could this really be happening? _Why were they wasting company money trying to make him feel better? Couldn't they just give him the money? That would definitely make him feel better.

"It's alright Zack," the man assured him, "you are safe in this room."

Zack cocked an eyebrow. But then something wonderful happened, an evil idea crept in classic Zack Fair fashion through his subconscious mind. He leaned back on the sofa with a wary look.

"Alright, but I'm so ashamed, I've never talked about it before."

"You can relax Zack, we can talk about anything here."

Zack rubbed his hand over his face taking a stressed deep breath.

"Well, you see, I was a very _curious _boy…"

The doctor nodded. "Go on."

Zack twiddled his thumbs nervously. "It was my next door neighbor…"

The man folded his hands in understanding.

"…She had this poodle…"

And the man's blood rushed from his face.

Power-squats in the sand and wind-sprints up the dunes quelled the storm in his mind to balmy seas. An islet for gulls laid a ten minute boat ride offshore, Zack swam there every morning. He crouched on a rock with the sun at his back like a predator, staring off over the horizon line as if he could somehow call it closer. Even the animals left him alone.

He wondered if this was how Angeal felt all those times when Zack wasn't around to be his ground. Why hadn't Angeal just told him? Why hadn't he opened up to him? Zack would have listened to him talk for days if only to have him here now. A gnawing emptiness ate at Zack's soul, threatening to consume him, and he realized that Angeal hadn't kept his life from Zack…he'd kept Zack from his life.

The flickering images still came in monochrome, snapshots in front of his waking eyes. Remembering Angeal standing on the wall in the Slums, his voice found its way to Zack's heart.

_Embrace your dreams._

One thing was certain, Zack the Puppy was dead, buried in the same place everyone laid the family dog to rest—out back by the garbage cans.

The whole trip was paid for on company's dime, all lodging and meals included. For breakfast in the hotel café overlooking the ocean, he could have gotten anything he wanted on the menu…he got eggs. Fiddling their untouched yolks with his fork, Zack heard the waitress drop a glass nearby him. The shatter jolted him to his feet pressed against the glass screen, hyperventilating.

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!" he yelled at her, going off for a full ten minutes about bearing and vigilance. He stormed off leaving the poor girl in tears.

Deep breaths on the wood deck, he sat on a varnished bench looking out at the surf. The sliding door at the far end opened up, and someone he least expected appeared out on the veranda.

Lilac knives for hair, Sephiroth's razor rose stepped with bare feet into the sun. With slow, heavy strides she crossed the deck to lean with arms folded on the railing, gazing out over the beach like she was looking for something she knew wasn't there. Zack sat up, she hadn't seen him.

She looked beat to hell, a tired slump where before he'd seen confidence unbridled, shard bangs sweeping over dark circles that ringed her Mako eyes. Now that he got a good look at her though, he saw that she was jacked. Her stomach was shredded into eight ratcheted sections under her taupe triathlete's two-piece, covered at the waist by a flowing blue sarong in the same tropical print as his trunks. A background in elite gymnastics was probable, but cagefighting might have been in there somewhere too. Zack got the sense that any feat of strength he could undertake, she could do it better. If Zack had a power and size advantage, she didn't care. He saw the weight of the world coming down hard on Shinra's toughest SOLDIER, her proud heart whirling in the disarray of a company in utter chaos.

He got up and started for her. Talking to a SOLDIER was preferable to talking to a shrink any day. But when she saw him, the flash of fear filled her eyes, and she whisked away at a fast trot down the deck.

Zack stopped. He'd caught the glint of tears, what was wrong? In that sliver of time where he glimpsed a window into her soul, he got a sense of who she really was. Shy, awkward, trouble making friends. He felt like in that brief moment of contact, they were kin, and Zack would resolve to try again, to keep trying, for as long as it took.

He grabbed a newspaper off a table and headed down to the beach. Sitting on the sand alone, he fell back to drape the paper over his face. Illuminating sunlight showed black bold typeface in impact headline reels.

_SHINRA INTERNAL STRIFE. DIRECTOR LAZARD CAUGHT EMBEZZELING MONEY TO FUND HOLLANDER'S RESEARCH._

Zack sat up, his jaw hitting the ground. He stared out over the beach like he didn't know where he was anymore, and wished he could swim away, keep going until he reached some other distant land to fight some other distant war.

Light footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see Cissnei in a petite trunkini and flip flops. She smiled at him with a tilt of her head.

"Sun tan lotion?"

Zack stared off behind her, then back at the ocean. She knelt down to rub sunblock from her hand onto his back, vigorous circles over his swimmer's shoulders and wide, liquid-lined deltoids. No reaction from him, as she sat side-legged next to him and handed him the bottle, turning so he could put some on her.

With dazed eyes he obliged, rubbing lotion over her white shoulders dotted with cute patches of freckles. He ran his hand under her straps with no expression. Twenty naked hookers could have been bouncing around in front of him and he wouldn't have bat an eye.

"Thanks," she smiled, pulling her knees up beside him. Zack didn't mind, but she'd been hovering around him ever since he got to Costa del Sol. Cissnei had been indifferent to him back at Shinra but now she couldn't stay away from him, and everything Zack said incidentally became the funniest or most interesting thing she'd ever heard. It all seemed so _convenient._

"The hell is wrong with people?" he asked the shoreline. "Everyone's so cutthroat. You spend your whole life watching your back when the deathblow comes from in front."

"Lazard had a lot of people fooled. Now he's disappeared, gone into hiding so we can't question him."

Her tone was serious enough as she leaned back on her hands, stretching toned legs over themselves while pouty lips regarded him. He cringed at the ground, holding in a storm, brining emotions on his red cheeks and chapped lips in a brooding agony. She touched his shoulder, but he shifted, running his hand through his hair in a subtle brush-off.

"What am I doing here? What, are they putting me out to pasture?"

She giggled and laid out on the sand, the small of her back arched just enough to accentuate her navel piercing.

"You could use a little R&amp;R."

It's not like he didn't notice how she angled her body toward him, salt spray beading off the slick grooves of her stomach. Zack stared a thousand miles out over the shore, not even getting a stiffy, a _partial _stiffy, but that's what made him uncomfortable.

He pulled out his phone.

"Cissnei, go do something somewhere."

"Calling _Aerith_?" She sat up with a wry grin. Zack was out of patience.

"Fine, then I'll go do something somewhere."

He stood up and she stood up after him.

"That girl's not human you know, she—"

"Stop!" he whirled on her. "I don't care. Besides, I don't want to hear it from _you_, I want to hear it from her."

"Fair enough."

He glared at her as he turned to leave. Cissnei took it in stride, Zack had been being a bastard to everyone lately. At least he was drinking the lemonade they were giving him. He went off to make a phonecall that he knew wouldn't connect, at least Aerith _answered_ her phone.

Nights were the hardest, garnering him nothing but his thoughts for company, and in the quiet dark they assaulted him. He paced in his hotel room. Phone call after phone call went to a stock voicemail response. He couldn't even leave a message, the mailbox was full. Why did he need to make this call? Why was this so important to him? He would give everything he had in life just to have someone answer this call.

His battery was low, he hung up and plugged in. Running hands through his hair in deep, exasperated sighs, he continued his pacing. Now he was a predator caged, a dangerous animal, to others and to himself.

Something in the bathroom that wasn't a big deal at all: no razor. The Turks had sprung for every naughty cable channel in the network and they couldn't get him a razor?

A thought occurred to him that he'd been walking around in sandals for a week—his boots were gone too. Zack had replaced the laces underneath the zipper-guards with parachute-cord so they wouldn't snap on him, you could hang an elephant with the stuff.

Open the top drawer to find his black fatigues—but no belt or sword harness. No razor, no boot laces, no belt, no harness, no razor, no boot laces, no belt…

Zack started cycling, what the hell did they think he was going to do? Mad pacing, deep breaths. _WHAT THE HELL DID THEY THINK HE WAS GOING TO DO!_

He grabbed a chair and threw it through the window.

The medical team raced up the stairs. Armed with vials of Paralyze Materia, they stacked up like a SWAT team outside the door where things were crashed and screaming blared like a torture chamber.

Cissnei ran out of her room in pajamas to intercept the medical team. She made them stand down outside his room, pushing them back.

"Zack?" she knocked on the door, no answer. She opened it with his spare keycard that she'd been issued, and eased her way inside.

It was dark, the lamp had been shattered, the room was razed like a hurricane. She found him in a corner, crouching barefoot on broken glass, shaking in violent spasms.

"Zack," she ran to him, but there was glass on the ground. She grabbed the comforter and draped it out between them, crawling over it to be closer to him. Whispering his name, she slid a few arm-lengths away, close enough to see him clawing at his scalp and tearstained cheeks.

"Where's Sephiroth?" he cried.

"He's back at Shinra, Zack," she comforted him in a soft voice.

"Why won't he answer his phone?"

"Because it's late Zack, he's probably sleeping."

"…No…that's not it…that's not it…"

He trembled in choking sobs, pressing himself further back into a corner that wouldn't give, curled up like a small child. Cissnei ran her hand along the wall so he could hear her coming, slow, now he was scared _and_ cornered. She touched his shoulder, and he flinched. He was soaked in sweat, drenched like he'd just come from the beach, his hair stuck to his face hiding his eyes. With gentle sounds she called to him, and with two hands around his shoulder helped him stand up. The poor guy, he could barely move, leaning his entire bodyweight on her as she guided him one step at a time. Over the comforter, across the room, out into the hallway where he saw the medical team and flinched back. She held him fast, waving them off with aggressive hand motions. She'd take it from here.

Small steps, agonizing steps for him, she lead him down the hall to her hotel room, shutting the door behind them. She brought him over to the bed and tried his shirt, but he clammed up tight, hugging himself against her.

"It's okay Zack, it's just me."

She eased his soaked t-shirt up over his head, helped him out of his swim trunks, pushed the covers aside and laid him down in bed.

She slept on the couch by the dining nook. He would need someone to watch him tonight, someone to shake him when the nightmares became too intense.

.

[Received Parasol]


	17. Chapter 17 - Black Suit

Zack was walking back to the Shinra Building at dusk when a postman approached him at the steps.

"Excuse me sir. A 1st. Are you…Angeal Hewley?"

Zack stopped. He had no idea what came over him at that moment, what malignant influence possessed him to answer like he did. Zack turned to the postman with conviction.

"Yes."

A grave expression crossed the courier's face.

"I'm very sorry sir, but I'm afraid I have terrible news. Your wife is dead."

Zack froze. The man removed his cap, rubbing his brow with a slim wrist.

"The Sorceress War in the North. Oh, so many people are losing their lives over who knows what. I have this letter for you, undeliverable I'm afraid."

The man handed a stamped envelope to Zack. He recognized his own handwriting, the letter he'd written to Angeal's wife after tracking her down in Winhil. Three pages, both sides. He hadn't written essays in school that long, he'd had to make himself stop. Now it had returned to his hand, unopened, unread, a syntax error that couldn't compute in his shocked mind at the moment.

Zack swallowed hard at the ground, getting his bearing, and he remembered something.

"Um…there was a baby."

The postman gazed into his eyes, and didn't answer for a long moment.

"I'm sorry sir."

And Zack's hand flew over his mouth. That's when he almost lost it, fighting to hold it in. He had to close his eyes for a long few seconds, shaking his head in awe.

The courier rubbed the back of his neck, empathizing with the young man he'd destroyed.

"Oh, what is this world coming to?"

Zack pursed his lips hard, gazing up at the sky. "Anything but an end."

The postman nodded and extended his hand. "Good luck to you, sir."

Zack shook it, and the man went away, leaving him alone on the steps with an unopened letter in his hand. Zack stared at it for a long time, Angeal's last penance, all the proof that he ever existed was gone.

What if something happened to _him_, Zack wondered. Was this how they were going to tell Aerith? With a succinct letter from Kunsel or Luxiere and a sincere apology from a postman? He wouldn't die, Zack could never _die_, but what if he got hurt, severely wounded, broke a pinky toe or something? It occurred to him then that she wouldn't be the first to find out, that his blood-relatives back in Gongaga would be priority by default…and that killed him.

He ripped the letter into even squared pieces and put it in his pocket, then he whipped out his phone dialing Aerith. It rang longer than usual.

"Hi. This is Aerith with Sector 5 Youth in Crisis. If this is an emergency, please hang up and dial 5-1-1. I can't come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can!"

Zack hung up. A heavy sigh. He continued on into the Shinra Building holding his head as high as he could manage.

In the lobby, Cissnei strolled down the second-story stairs in casual-wear, and stopped when she saw Zack. He straightened up when he saw her, and his mouth hung open a little.

The incantation of office-chic, she sported lightwash Gap jeans that formed to her curvy thighs, a star-studded belt around her waist. She was a Sketchers girl with a denim messenger bag slung over her shoulder, the strap falling cross-chest over her frilled white button-down. Cissnei looked crimped up in her michrocheck suit with formal makeup, but once she washed that stuff off, her freckles poked through on her nose and cheeks like cherry ice-cream sprinkles, and something about them made Zack's heart flutter.

"Yo!"

"Hey!"

They went to each other like a pleasant surprise. Zack had never seen her out of uniform before, she looked like a completely different girl. It seemed like once her clothes relaxed her personality relaxed as well.

"How you doing Zack?"

When she asked that question, he knew it meant a little more to them. He rubbed the back of his head with a shrugging smile.

_"Ngh_…I'm hanging in there."

And she laughed like she knew what he meant. But _her _smile, her smile was contagious under strawberry lip balm, a shining luster that Zack noticed—meaning he was looking at her lips.

"What about you? You have a date or something? Wow, he's a really lucky guy."

She giggled.

"No, I'm actually going to see Loveless. I won some tickets through a fan club thing, so I figure I might as well use them."

She'd said _tickets. _Plural. He wanted to ask who she was going with, a couple girlfriends maybe? He didn't know how though, and didn't want to come off as too forward. He really didn't know what he wanted at that moment.

Something on her bag caught his eye.

A patch…_of his name_!?

He cocked an eyebrow at her, and she held in a wry grin.

"What's this?" he asked with his own grin sneaking its way across his face.

"You should check your Facebook more often. Wouldn't want to disappoint your fans."

_WHAAAA?_

"Wait…I have a…_really_?"

And she laughed again. "It's actually pretty well-informed, they know things from your hometown all the way to your favorite movie, apparently all thanks to some informant named Black Suit."

"_Friend _of yours maybe?"

She looked around like she didn't know what he was talking about, rocking on her heels to hold in a smile. A beaming excitement welled up in him, he got the urge to pick her up and spin around with her. A flash of an alternate universe crossed his mind, where he would be going with her to see this play. They'd hang out after work at the coffee shop sipping those girly overpriced white-chocolate raspberry mochas and commiserating about their jobs. Jogging together on the boardwalk, hiking by the reservoir, and rock climbing! She could go rock climbing with him! And maybe, someday, they'd go back to Costa del Sol and do it right this time.

But the alternate universe faded to the actual universe, reality hitting him like a gold needle. Earth to Zack, there was already a girl in his life, and she wouldn't even move above the Plate for him.

Zack and Cissnei stared at each other for a moment, almost as if they both shared the same thought, like the way they both seemed to slump just a little wasn't a coincidence.

"Listen," Zack started. "…about at the beach."

"Oh, it's okay Zack," she waved those bad thoughts off for him.

"No. No, it's not okay…" he stopped her, firm, serious, and looked her dead in the eye. "I was a mess. I didn't care about anything or anyone, least of all myself. You took care of me. Heck, you picked me up off the floor…thank you."

And they shared a dazzle-eyed moment. That's it, this was getting painful, he really wanted to give her a quick hug, but he couldn't just go for it right in the middle of the lobby! They fidgeted around for a minute, shifting their hands in their pockets as if they'd find something to say in them.

"Well, you let me know how the play is," Zack shrugged.

She nodded, her expectant smile fading to a forced grin. They went about their ways, looking back at each other at different times.

He took the elevator up with a reminiscent smile on his face. But by the time he got to SOLDIER wing, the butterflies had flown, leaving him with his hand in his pocket on torn up bits of paper. So, he had his own fan club now, but only one thought ran through his head…

_Why?_

He continued up to barracks, down the hall past doors that were left open like a college dorm. Walking all the way to the end, he swiped his ID card at his door and went in.

Inside was a warm dark, a subtle tinted-blue glow emanating from the digital interface of his stereo. He went to his dresser, put the pieces of the letter in his top drawer, and closed it carefully, gingerly, like he was closing a casket. Sitting cross-legged on his mattress, intent as an acolyte in meditation, he stared out into an abyss that stared back.

Someone had been there to pick Zack up when he was scared, but who had been there for Angeal? The nights where he'd been alone, the distance of his soul assailed by chaos, he'd ridden out his meltdowns like a personal battle, a private perfect storm. How he'd survived that long, with no one to pull him out of his darkness, was nothing short of a miracle to Zack.

He could do it now, Zack could pick Angeal up off the ground, now he'd be stronger than him if he had to, stronger _for _him. At the end of everything, being stronger for anyone meant Zack was being stronger for himself. Remembering how he had let Zack misjudge him, the realization dawned on him like nightfall…That was Angeal's aim all along.

Children have a right to be wrong, to grow up on their own terms, to learn the lessons that shape who they are and become who they're meant to be.

Alone now, and strong now, Zack bared his soul to the darkness and spoke to the walls of his room.

"Hi Angeal," he sighed out into nowhere. "I don't know if you can hear me. I never do this. Just want to let you know that I'm doing okay. I've been reading Musashi like you told me to, and keeping up with my field training. Heh, I leveled up and everything. I've been thinking about what you said about finding out what honor means to me, and I think I've figured it out. I don't think honor is something we have, I think it's something we strive for, something we'll never quite get all the way because we're only human. But those parts of us that are human, I think those are the dishonorable parts; the parts that make us monsters, where we weigh our need for love against our need for sex. Even though we know which one is stronger, we're supposed to do the right thing anyway, and usually we fail. But when we succeed in spite of ourselves, that's honor, standing up for what's right even if you're afraid, even if you have every reason not to, even if you're going to die doing so. A warrior can leave his body, but he must protect his honor, always. I think there's a monster inside all of us though. Your idea of honor was to try to overcome these dishonorable things, to defeat them, to purify yourself from them, but I don't think that's what we should do to gain honor. I think we should talk about them, accept them as part of ourselves, and make it so they're not scary. We should shine the light on them so that they're not dark anymore, and by doing that we can take away their power over us, we can make it so they can't hurt us anymore. But when you found the monster in yourself, I don't think you could square it with your honor. You couldn't accept those terrible things you'd worked your whole life to push down, and when they finally came out, they came like daemon's wings. I think, seeing it thrown out in front of you, not being prepared for it, and with no way to deny it, is what made you take your own life."

Zack froze at those last words, he'd never said them out loud. The truth of what he'd gone through with his mentor blared with such soft reverence like the blue light from his stereo, a truth he didn't want to accept, wrapped in the steel-wool comfort of denial. Angeal had killed himself…using Zack's hand.

He fell on his bed then, curling onto his side with his knees bent like he used to do back when he was twelve years old, back when he would lock himself in his room and cry until he was out of tears. But Zack couldn't cry yet, he knew that if he cried now, he'd be crying for himself.

He held himself and whispered out into blue harmonic dark.

_"Those wings…"_

.

[Received Dark Matter]


	18. Chapter 18 - Lucky Stars

Zack lay in bed dialing Aerith's number.

"Hi. This is Aerith with Sector 5 Youth in Crisis. If this is an emergency, please hang up—"

He hung up. Plugging his phone in by his pillow, he adjusted, attempting to catch some rack-time. But something wasn't right.

He turned over, shoving his hands under his pillow to get comfortable. Tossing in his bed, a growing agitation gnawed at his subconscious that he couldn't shake no matter how much he punched his mattress to get rid of it. A whispering thought that blared like air raid sirens drawing closer and closer…

…another man.

Zack turned over again. It couldn't be, but it was. A guy _always_ knew when there was someone else. The sense was a million years of deeply engrained genetics burned straight into his DNA, and now his spidey-senses were flaring like a frilled cockatiel.

He turned on his back, staring at the ceiling. He was being ridiculous! Accusing _Aerith_? All because she hadn't answered her phone? It's not like Zack never talked to her, he'd talked to her _three times_ today. The poor girl had a right to sleep, it was bloody midnight.

A deep breath to calm down, but…it wasn't _that_ late. She'd answered later than this before. There was a way to quell his fears, the next time he saw her, _her phone. _He stopped himself. If he was going to become the guy who went through her phone looking for a message that would turn out later to be from a cousin or nephew or uncle, he needed to start seriously reconsidering his relationship…

_Okay, that's it._Up out of bed, Zack needed a walk. What he was doing was the definition of tripping. Throwing on some mesh shorts, a white tee and sandals, he strode out into the hallway rubbing the back of his head.

He slumped down onto one of the couches in the common area that overlooked Midgar, sinking into temperfoam as he gazed out over a glittering panoramic cityscape. The lights were alive underneath the shadow of Shinra, dancing in the capitalist colloquium of digitized datastreams, and Zack felt them invade him. The organic sentience of the city was something he never took for granted after being deprived of it for nearly his entire life. Now in the vastness of human ingenuity's greatest urban achievement, he was reminded of what he was fighting for.

Light footsteps, familiar, behind him. He turned in the dark to see Cissnei hold up her hands.

"It's just me," she assured him in a whisper, then came over to sit down on the couch with him. "I was doing my rounds and saw you come in. I thought I'd say hi."

She smiled at him, and he smiled back, his head still resting against the billowed foam of the lounge sofa.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Me? Oh yeah, nights just get hard sometimes." They both knew what he meant.

Cissnei gazed out with him over the glittering limelights of the city, speaking to him like she had when he first met her, like she'd known him all her life.

"When I was little, I used to be afraid of the dark. I had a nightlight shaped like angel's wings, to keep the monsters away. But sometimes, the door would creak or the wind would howl against the window, and I'd get really scared. My mind would make me think things were real that weren't really there."

"Heh, yours too huh?" He glanced at her, his half-smile making up for the hug he hadn't given her. She seemed to accept it, leaning on the arm of the sofa while his head lolled against the backrest. All of Shinra seemed to be asleep, blocking out a quiet private place where they could be next to each other like this.

"Did you ever do anything like that when you were a kid?" she asked.

A humoring groan escaped him. "My childhood was just as messed up as everyone else's."

"Really?" Cissnei squinted, returning his humor. She sat up and crossed her legs, mocking the psychologist whom Zack had purportedly made take a leave of absence. "Tell me about your childhood, Zack."

He laughed. "You sound like the shrink at the beach."

"He's just for CYA…" She waved him off, and they both chuckled at the thought. The quiet dark settled around them in a billowing security blanket. "Do you talk to your family about any of this stuff?"

They both knew what _stuff _she meant_. _It was nice not having to come out and admit anything that was obviously there.

"Eh...My mom and her husband are back in Gongaga, and that's where they will _stay."_

"You don't call your dad 'Dad?'" she noted, and he shook his head. "Why not?"

He looked over at her like it was an odd question. "Because he's not. He's my stepdad."

"Oh." And he went back to staring out at the farscape. "Where's your real dad?"

"Who cares."

"…I see…I'm sorry."

He shook his head, telling her not to be. "I'm not hung up about it. I get along with my mom well enough, but she only cares about two things: am I married yet and have I chosen a church? It's like, hey mom, guess what, I made 1st Class! _That's nice dear, what does your wife think?"_

Cissnei rolled her eyes along with him. "And your stepdad thinks the same?"

"According to him, I'm a screw-up who's going to go nowhere and do nothing with my life." He waved his hands around Shinra HQ just to accentuate the point. "Had it out for his own kid all because I wouldn't conform to his conservative lifestyle. Last time I spoke to him was…eh…the night I left home."

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

Zack ran his hands over his forehead, to the back of his neck and back down to his sides.

"…We went a few rounds."

"Eek."

A long quiet, and when Zack did speak, he spoke as if to someone else, someone standing in front of him who wasn't really there.

"You know…you can't just tell someone to leave and get mad when they head for the door."

"What about your friends, Zack? Didn't you have anyone you could go to?"

"Oh yeah, I had tons of friends. They're all on drugs now."

She gazed at him, a pain clutching her heart as she watched him stare a thousand miles out over the city, sitting right next to her and at the same time not even there at all. She moved up beside him then, held his hand, and leaned her head on his shoulder.

He tensed up, but she spoke to him with that soothing sigh in her voice.

"_We're_ friends Zack, you need this."

He relaxed, letting his head lean against hers in turn. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been crushing hardcore for her over the past week. Besides, they _were_ friends. He could hold his friend's hand if he wanted to, he could give his friend a hug, he'd stand up to anyone for that.

Now, leaning on each other in the soft solitude of the cityscape, his thumb caressed her ring finger.

"I made it all the way here, and I deserve to be here, but sometimes I forget what it was all for. Sometimes, I don't know what I'm fighting for anymore."

"Maybe it's for you, Zack. Maybe as much as you're fighting for other people, you're fighting for yourself. You deserve that."

He stayed there with her as the world fell away. Her presence wrapped him in an eclipsing pale fire, flowing calm resonating between them. He let himself be taken, whisked away to fantasy worlds where nothing around him was final and his life could dissolve into ether. When she turned his face toward hers with two fingers on his chin, he didn't stop her, and when she moved her mouth to his, he didn't pull away.

Her lips tittered on his, asking for permission to feel this way about him. Zack laid there in stasis as he felt her wisping breaths brush his cheek. Here was a beautiful girl with a great body, an amazing personality, a career, who'd had a few boyfriends and lost a few, who knew a thing or two about life and was mature enough to deal with it. The only thing that would have made her more awesome was a jetpack. _A perfect ten_. What the heck was he waiting for?

He sat up with her, his lips engulfing hers, cupping her soft face in a calloused hand. Her gasp made him gasp, made his whole body gasp, the intensity with which they pressed themselves against each other made their chemical resonance intertwine. His arms around her back, hers around his neck, pulling him into her through deep fiery kisses that grew more ravenous by the microsecond. Her taste, her smell, pheromone fragrance tingling in his nostrils, driving him into a frenzy like shooting stars. He wanted her. He needed her. Now.

But they couldn't do this here.

"Come on," he whispered, and pulled her by the hand up off the couch. They ran together hand-in-hand through the halls, bee lining for Zack's room. He swiped his ID card and it glitched, not opening. She swiped hers and the door flew open. Her ID card opened his door? And she hadn't taken advantage of it yet! _But she'd been planning to._

They flew inside and locked the door. Their clothes came off in a whirlwind and Zack found himself shoved on his bed, a lithe spitfire on top of him, straddling him, impaling herself on him, riding him to higher planes of elation that made him gasp out loud. Shooting electricity surged through his veins, he grabbed her hips, driving up into her, grinding her against him with the velocity of a jack-hammer. Everything sped up in flashriot flare-stratus as a rhythmic jostling rocked his legs and groin, an absolute ecstatic miasma of serrating sexual sensation that radiated from her spread-eagle thighs clenching around him for dear life.

He rolled on top of her, driving against her, drilling her like a pile-driver. She yelled to his ceiling, and he moaned to his floor, slamming his hips into her as he slammed his fist against the wall. Forget discretion, all of SOLDIER would know they were having a time. Zack was having a party in _his_ bunk tonight and no one else was invited.

He moved with her, shooting his mental clarity to a clairvoyant coriolis effect. He saw the aurora borealis behind his eyelids, felt it fulminating up his wracked body, sweeping undulating colors streaking in soft lines of neon through their entangled limbs. His heavy breathing, her delicate sighs, heaving in wailing cries as he pressed the full brunt of himself up into her being. In a moment of impulse, he flipped her on her side, and now he slowed down.

Like molasses, he entered her with precise, measured thrusts that made her scream. Inch by inch he felt her constrict against his girth, a reaming rolling suction that compressed every fold and crevasse of him, mindfulness fading to crystal waters. He dove in, sliding up into her with impassioned pressure, tears running down her cheeks but begging him not to stop. This couldn't have felt as good for her as it did for him, this was just so he could come inside her. Zack was totally the kind of guy to be with a girl and then brag about it the next morning, so the fact that she was trusting him to do this was a huge compliment to his character. A sense of validation so profound coiled around him like tightening rubber bands, rings around his member that cinched shooting cold electricity up the pleasure receptors of his brainstem.

Then, he felt himself pulled into her, a vibration that agitated him, that upset him like a child not being given what he wants. It infuriated him, distressed him, distorted and discombobulated him. An anger that gripped him in rushing testosterone rage made him ram his hips into her like a pool cue, eight ball, corner pocket, score. Now he was screaming to the sky along with her, racing in rampant similitude to a gyrating dissonance that ripped his mind from his control. He felt it coming, his muscles tensing beyond tension, stomach tightening to tear through his intestinal wall, glands pumping hormones like a firehose, ratcheting sensation straight through the roof of his room. And then…

Explosions, hurricanes, tsunamis, pressure-washing her fascia in sea foam.

Anguished sigh and he crumpled down next to her, sprawled out on top of her, still halfway inside of her, shaking in feverish spasms. An arm around her breasts clutched her close to him, while a little voice of reason in the back of his mind echoed as he drifted off into dream.

_It's okay, I'll just kill myself in the morning._

.

[Received Star Pendant]


	19. Chapter 19 - Character

He woke up next to billowing red hair, soft conditioned flyaways brushing him as he nuzzled his nose against hers. Even if a night was a total mistake, the consensus among younger SOLDIER's was that it was completely acceptable to jump on a girl one more time after waking up. So Zack did, a nice, sweet good-morning love-making session that was better than breakfast-in-bed. Now if only he could have an alarm clock like this.

They got a shower in Zack's half-bathroom that he had all to himself, _the perks of being a 1st. _At least, she got a shower, he was on his knees. She thanked him _generously _for that in turn.

Drying each other off, they couldn't keep their hands to themselves. A quick round with her propped up on his dresser and he'd broken his speed-record. She got dressed in a flurry because now she was going to be late for work, and found him holding her bra above her head. He watched her bounce up and down trying to reach it, _other things _bouncing as well for his amusement.

Rush to the door and he moved in to kiss her, she kissed him on the cheek.

_Okay. That works too._

"Bye Zack," she smiled at him, practically skipping out of barracks. He was floating to so many happy high places he almost couldn't believe it.

He turned back into his room and stopped. She'd left her panties on his pillow!

Tumbling back into his bed in tumultuous ecstasy, he pressed her silken unmentionables to his face to inhale her dizzying aroma—her little love note. Oh he was flying high now. Angeal who? What about honor? Aerith really was a daemon in the sac.

Wait…

Zack sat up. He'd been with _Cissnei_ last night. Cissnei was a Turk. The Turks guarded Aerith—

AERITH!

Zack shot out of bed, pacing wildly around his room biting his nails. He was ready to cry. Oh god, what had he just done?

He threw a shirt on, and threw it back off, he still smelled like sex! Back in the shower he'd just come out of, difficulty maintaining a grip on a soap bar, dry off, forget about the hair—the first time in his life Zack could actually care less about his hair.

Get dressed in record time and rush out into the hallway. Where was his sword? What the hell, a 1st Class SOLDIER forgetting his sword! _This was bad._

Get resituated and get down to the train station. _Fast_. He had what, half-an-hour, forty-five minutes before his life went straight to hell? That queasy tight feeling cinched in vicegrip asphyxiation around his throat and diaphragm, hopefully he'd have a heart attack on the train.

He hugged his chest with arms tight against himself, rocking back and forth in his seat like this train was shipping him off to a concentration camp. When he got to the church, he almost fainted, light-headed wooziness assaulting him, his body force-shutting down to protect him. He trudged up those steps like marching to his own execution, dead man walking.

Inside was a holy auric revue, sun beams streaking like milk through dusty stained glass angels. Maybe he didn't have to do this. There were guys in his unit who juggled two, even three girls at a time! He'd never let it happen again and it would be better for everyone if he could just—

"Zack!" She saw him from the flowerbed and ran to him, her iris eyes flashing a butterfly smile. She flowed like a fawn through the milky light bathed in a radiant luster, a shimmering golden auralence weaving in wheat stems through her hair. A wood nymph hailing her valiant knight, his beloved flower maiden ran into the arms of her SOLDIER.

She kissed him hello with a little peck of her delicate lips, but he shied away from her touch, he didn't deserve it.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and he started shaking. "Zack, talk to me."

A stern tone edged her voice, worry invading her sunshine eyes. Oh god, she was actually worried about _him_.

"I have…to tell you something."

She took him to the front pew, sitting him down and tending to him like he was one of her flowers.

"Gosh, you poor thing. Here, have some flower-petal tea first."

She brought him tea in a styrofoam cup, taking his hand to help him hold it. She wore that same jean skirt and yellow t-shirt tied in the back with gardening gloves dangling from her belt loop.

"Are you sick?" She pressed her lips to his forehead feeling his temperature while he shook so bad his tea spilled. She pulled a knit-shawl from her tote-bag and wrapped it around his shoulders, just in case he was coming down with something. He lost it, he put his head down in her lap and cried.

"I can't…I can't…" he choked as she hushed him.

"It's alright Zack, just get it off your chest. It'll feel better."

_No it won't. Oh god it won't._

She picked him up off her lap, holding him upright to face her. His hair was a mess, she brushed it out of his struggling eyes and wrapped him in a hug like a cocoon. He held her tight against his trembling form, savoring the warmth of her closeness, the tender togetherness of walks in the park and candy kisses.

"It's okay Zack. Whatever it is, I still lo—"

"I slept with someone else."

The silence. The jolt. He felt her tense.

She stood up from him in slow-motion, lucid shock in her eyes like his words hadn't registered. The terror sunk in for him, the brevity of what was actually going on here in this second seemed to slow the entire world to a crawl. Cold horror, this was the end.

"Please, I can explain—" he leapt for her. In a flash a balled fist slammed into his jaw, throwing him back against the pew where he had to brace with one arm to keep upright. Her hands flew over her mouth, while he tasted blood in his.

He stood up off the pew as straight as he could manage under the weight of the shame. When he looked at her, his soul was unveiled, showing all that he was, and all he was not. His eyes reached for her across eternal oceans, six feet of distance that stretched for miles between them.

"I don't love her. It was a mistake. Please forgive me."

But she shook her head.

"No. No! Don't come here anymore. Don't ever come here again."

"Aerith wait."

"I never want to see you again!" She shoved him back, rushing past him in a wave of fiery hair. His hands flew to his eyes, falling on the floor. This time, no one was there to pick him up.

The walk back to the train station was a haze, blue nothing spanning out into nowhere. Sitting slumped on the bench of the train, he hallucinated two dead SOLDIER's next to him. Getting off at the wrong stop, he walked a mile back to the Shinra Building, bumping people's shoulders as he went. A familiar voice reached his ears by the stairs.

"Zack!" Cissnei called to him. She ran to him, threw her arms around his neck and shoved her tongue down his throat. "I heard about what happened. I'm so sorry."

How had she heard? He hadn't even told anyone. Why was she acting like this toward him in uniform? Unless…

"Wait a minute…" He shoved her so hard she flew back into a brick wall. "You're on an assignment!"

The way she jumped back into combat stance was the terrible confirmation of his suspicions. He strode forward with balled fists but stopped himself, he didn't know how he felt about beating up a girl he'd just been intimate with.

"How could you?"

"This isn't what it looks like."

"You've got about five seconds to explain why!"

"Zack, SOLDIER is falling apart! We don't know how much longer the department will even be around. When all this comes to a head, we want to hold onto you. We don't want you to get lost in the fiasco."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

She stood up out of combat stance, owning up to him in her own way.

"Shinra is talking about shutting you down. They won't reassign personnel. We need you to come with us Zack."

Zack crossed his arms with a snort. "Why? What, to make me a Turk?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I just know there's classified intel being thrown around like hailstones now. We heard _Code: Zero-Dark_ and got scared okay!"

Zack froze, a chill running up his spine. Code: Zero-Dark, the weirdest code in SOLDIER, anything "zero" meant direct from the President, and "dark" just meant radio-silence, basically the head-hancho taking precious time out of his imminent schedule to tell lackey commandos to shut the hell up—always struck them as overkill. All Code: Zero-Dark meant was that personnel were to report to the training room and turn their cellphone's off, no big deal. But Angeal had given Zack specific instructions that if he ever heard this op code, he was to disobey direct orders, go straight to Angeal's apartment and lock himself inside until he came to get him.

Now Cissnei stood before him with pleading eyes that understood everything about as much as he did. His mind whirled with her revelations, he held it in in behind closed eyes like the levies of an overflowing damn. When he did look up at her, they were no longer friends.

"All this, everything with us, was because they _assigned _you to me?"

She took another strong step forward.

"I volunteered."

His stare met hers like blade met blade, standing there like star-crossed lovers caught in the wake of a typhoon. For a millisecond of time she was his, his little spitfire, a girl who could have been his best friend growing up and could have had many nights with him to still be his best friend in the morning. Instead, she stood before him in a black suit, telling him this was her job.

"Wow, I really misjudged you. I didn't think you were the kind of girl to sleep with a guy for money."

A last burning glare, and he went into the HQ Building leaving her alone by the steps.

In SOLDIER wing, Zack made it ten paces before another familiar voice called him out.

"Zack!" Kunsel called to him with the rest of their friends in tow. "Let's hit the training room. You against me, man. I leveled up and everything!"

"Huh whuh?"

They pulled him dazed into the training room, but he didn't remember them doing so. The end result was a disaster, with Kunsel unconscious and Zack convulsing in disoriented sobs.

Shinra suspended Zack for two weeks after that little incident, but seeing as his friends came and got him that night, they didn't seem to mind. They hauled him into the Goblin Bar and yelled a salute to the bartender.

"Yo! This guy lost _two girls _in _two hours_! Give him the biggest, cheapest thing you've got!"

He put a bucket on the bar and started filling it from the tap.

Four beers in, Zack had a good buzz going and was talking about what happened. Eight in and he was on the bar crying about what happened. By ten he was going on about honor and dreams, and by twelve he was babbling on about bizarre oriental suicide rites.

They took him out back to let him throw up behind a garbage can. Kunsel offered Zack a cigarette and when he tried to refuse, shoved it in his mouth.

"We know Zack, _muh honor, _now smoke this splif."

By midnight he was incoherent and nauseous. They took him all the way back to the medical bay, threw him in the tank and went back to drinking.

"_BASTAAAAAAARRDS!" _he moaned on the floor.

The days that followed were a cacophonic blur. His mattress was bare now, stripped of its linens. He'd come back to find it soaked—apparently _she'd _had a good time as well.

_Well congratu-freakin-lations Zack, here's your goddamn props._

He threw her panties in the garbage.

Nights were always hard, listening to The Fray in the dark, calling Aerith's voicemail and pouring his heart out like a poet. His sleeping schedule was utterly destroyed. Days were an idiopathic routine that couldn't have been healthy under any circumstances, shut up in his room like it was some sort of cell. One hundred squats, call Aerith, repeat, water break, one hundred squats, call Aerith, bathroom break, repeat, repeat…

Lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling like it held all the answers, he watched his life flicker in flashing flareshots before his eyes, changing channels on a television way too fast. He'd always talked to Aerith about this stuff, her soothing words were his nightlight that kept the monsters away, now her prerecorded vox-audio let him know what to do in case of an emergency.

Eventually, the urge to call eased, the brining storm settling to manageable rapids, the balmy tide of acceptance. A rolling fog on his mind seemed to lift enough for him to see this nightmare as just a two-week stint in the suck, and he became more focused with occupying his time.

Angeal's books sat gathering dust in boxes stacked in a corner of his room, his laundry bag sitting on top of them. Desperate to distract his wild whirling heart, a thought occurred to him like lasers, that changed him. He started reading them.

.

[Received Libra]


	20. Chapter 20 - Reunion

They were the longest two weeks of his life, but everything ends. That was the lesson Zack learned when he returned from his suspension.

Now he sat in the break room in somber silence psyching up for the day, and resolved to make one more phonecall, one last time. He dialed the number and listened to the message that he'd heard a hundred times over, the last time he'd ever hear it again.

"Aerith, it's Zack. I'm just…calling to say goodbye. I know I did wrong, and I learned a valuable lesson the hard way. I've learned so much from you Aerith, you taught me so much about myself, and I'll never forget you. But wherever you go, whatever you do, forget me not. Goodbye Aerith."

And he hung up.

A sense of finality befell him, completion. With calm acceptance, he stood up to leave the break room when…

His phone rang, and all the accepting and meditating and stages of grief he'd overcome went straight out the window.

"Aerith? Aerith!..." But there was no answer. A redialer, he thought, until he heard breathing. He threw himself against the wall, hiding his face in his hands. "Please Aerith, I'm crying at work, I just want to hear your voice one last time. Please talk to me. Please."

And silence. The ripping pain returned in full brunt force like everything had happened all over again. Then, her voice came through the receiver in a low monotone.

"…You can come see me now."

*_Click_*

A whirl of emotion overwhelmed him, filled with anxious awe. He swayed a little from the high, and took off for the train station, hurrying as fast as he could considering he was probably about to have his balls torn off by someone who was good with a pair of gardening sheers.

He reached the steps and his body made him woozy again, remembering the trauma from the last time he was here. He entered like a scared animal.

The old cathedral seemed more beautiful than he remembered it, the low echoes of his footsteps reverberating in the vast space like pipe organs. He saw her leaning against the front pew in the aisle, her flowerlace skirt and summer top peeking from under a jean jacket overthrow. Seeing her sent a gasp through his lungs, sucked the air right out of his body, a ring of light that wrapped around his heart.

Like an altar boy, he approached her with slow, deliberate steps, hanging his head low in humbled shame. He stopped before her, six feet of distance that stretched like eternal oceans. Unable to meet her gaze, unable to find words to defend himself, he braced for a soft lashing.

"One of the Turks came and talked to me about you," she spoke at last.

He hesitated before answering. "Um…which one?"

"Reno."

He cringed. This was going to be bad.

"He said they had you targeted, and when the Turks pick a target, they _get _their target. To be fair, he said you held out a lot longer than they expected…Plus coming off the Clonipin was a little rough on you."

"What? No I wasn't!"

"He said something about lemonade?"

_Those bastards!_

A mottled silence fell over them as Zack stood shifting with his hands in his pockets. Aerith sighed with a subtle glare at the ceiling.

"What a jerk, he said if I'd been doing _my _job then they wouldn't have to do _theirs._"

Zack winced at that. "What did you say to him?"

"…I called him a few choice things you would have been proud of me for."

A slight smile, he was proud of her. "Did he tell you anything else?"

And a long silence. "…He told me about Costa del Sol."

His heart sank, remembering the time that _Aerith _had picked him up off the floor. She hadn't just saved his sanity the night he'd returned from Modeoheim, she'd saved his life.

Her eyes weren't angry anymore. They were past being angry. They'd been doing as much crying as he had. Her trust in him lay shattered on the floor like pieces of a stained glass window, and Zack knew that he'd done that. There was only one thing left to do, pick up the pieces, if she'd let him.

He clutched at his heart with a fist, trying beyond hope to hold everything in that threatened to spill out at her feet.

"Aerith, I don't know who I am anymore. If I could take everything back, everything in my life, go back to when we first met, I'd stay there forever. I'd—"

"—_Shh." _She crossed the endless space between them to place two fingers on his lips. "Zack, we can never go back, only forward."

Worlds swirled in her haloed irises, calm serenity in the wake of magnolian skies. She replaced her fingertips with her lips on his, taking his head in her hands. The oceans between them fell away in enflowering crystallis. That first kiss in forever was like the first kiss all over again.

He fell onto her then, dizzy as the day he'd met her. She caught him with arms around his back, and took him to the pew. She brought him tea in a styrofoam cup. This time her hands shook. "Let me try this again."

But he dropped the cup to throw his arms around her, and they clutched each other for dear life in the ageless solitude of the church.

"I've been keeping things from you too," she sobbed. "There's so much I need to tell you."

"You don't have to tell me anything Aerith."

"No, no, you should know—"

"—I don't want to know." And he took her hands, a firm resolve in his gaze. "There's things we share with each other, and there's things we keep for ourselves. Some things that are sacred, that I want you to keep for you. You don't bare yourself to anyone because you think you _have_ to, not for me, not for anyone. And that's how this relationship is going to be from now on. Understand?"

He bore into her eyes, putting his foot down with his girlfriend, and her steady gaze let him know that she accepted him.

"Zack, I don't not sleep with you because I don't care about you, it's—"

"No, no, none of that, you don't worry about any of that."

She pulled away from him, sitting with hands folded in nervous tangles.

"No. I want to talk about it. It's hard for me. I'm uncomfortable with my body, like I want to jump out of my skin. How can I share myself with someone when I don't even feel human?"

"Aerith, it's alright. If you want to wait until we get married, I completely support you."

She gasped, her eyes shooting to his. He stared back at her trying to stay strong, giving her all the confirmation she needed—he was trembling. He'd said it, and he was scared, but he wasn't taking it back.

She leapt upon his lips, showering him in fiery evanauric kisses, and he pulled her into his lap like he had on the day they'd first become lovers, surrendering possession of his soul. The sunlamp rays flowed in half-light hailing the oncoming twilight and still he kissed her wildly, holding her fast against the oncoming night.

They lit candles in mason jars that Aerith kept for her tomatoes and hung them from the rafters with twine. Wrapped in an old picnic blanket, they laid together in the flowerbed stargazing. The tealight candles flickered in the glass jars above them like constellations, beading fireflies that cast a soft amber glow in the darkness of the old church. It was a new moon cycle above the Plate, so the moonlamps below remained dark, leaving Zack and Aerith staring up at an evangelic candlelight sky.

His fingers interlaced with hers as they traced the lines of their stars, leaning over to whisper something silly in her ear that made her giggle. The flowers brushed their swaying stems around them like little hands clinging to their legs, grabbing at the fibers of the checkered blanket as if they wanted in. Their kisses seemed more sacred tonight, softer than ever before, longing and lonely from missing each other's taste. Hands too, brushing each other's sides like sculptors shaping the fine lines of their curves, and their subtle presses, legs intertwined to be closer, so they could hold each other beyond the boundaries of their skin. This was all Zack wanted, closeness, nothing more tonight. Lying with his girl in his arms under a sky that shone only for them was more than he could ever want right now.

But her hands roamed, running up and down his chest and obliques to feel the rolling hills of his musculature. On their next pass down, they didn't stop, exploring the space between his stomach and belt. He took that hand and kissed it, he didn't want her to feel as if she _had _to. But when her other hand moved to replace it at his belt, he kissed that one too, and since he could only control one hand at a time as her other hand resumed its exploration, he arched his hips away from her with crossed legs.

And she squinted.

Now a subtle sense of mischievousness invaded their lulling calm, like a sprite that snuck its way into their private precession. She tried one more time, and he turned on his stomach with a puckish smile. Her eyes flew wide.

Now she knew what he was doing, this sly trickster. She knew very well that she was playing right into a little game of his. But Aerith reached into her own bag of tricks and went to war.

Her lips brushed against his ear, breathing a soft warmth into him that swept through his whole body. He went limp as she turned him back over. Her hand brazed the valleys of his stomach, tasting the sweet thrill of victory over his inseam, to find his hand covering himself.

_Grrrrr._

She climbed on top of him, straddling him, her hands supporting her weight on the sides of his hips. But he pushed her arms out, a wrestling move that made her topple flat onto him. Now he was in trouble. Her chest hovered over his face, dangling locks of auburn hair bristling against his cheeks. This was a good position, he could get used to this, but he wiped the smile off his face when he realized he'd shown weakness to the enemy.

She arched her back over him, accentuating her chest down to his face, and he became dizzy. Her cotton top whisked his nose, perky pinnacles dragging up his chin, and his world went hazy in a helpless fog. Cloth-covered nipples teased the corners of his mouth as they continued up his cheeks and down again. He searched for them with probing lips, trying to clasp the tips of her outline between tongue and teeth, but she evaded him.

Nibbling at her shirt in powerless desperation, he felt the soft fabric where skin should have been and cried, frustrated gasps of excitement racing through his body, reaching for her with his tongue. When hers met his, a surge of electric-edged energy oscillated from head to limbs, to every part of his body, bloodflow increasing in exponential waves of static inflation. As his mind whirled distracted, her hand slid covertly down the side of his body. _Nope._

He rolled her over and laid into her, pressing the indentation of himself between her legs to make her gasp. Guys who didn't do a dry-run like this with their virgin girlfriends were asking for a sexual fiasco. He gauged her reactions to see if she'd freak out. It would stretch her inner thigh more than she thought it would. This wasn't like how girls imagine it to be. How would she handle all of his weight on her, would she get claustrophobic? He kissed her neck in luscious sweeps of his tongue, but then stopped, remembering what happened the first time he'd overstimulated her. Besides, he knew he wasn't getting any cake tonight no matter how many goods her hands kneaded. So when she reached down to unbutton his fatigues, he reached down to button them back up.

_DAMMIT!_

That's it. She'd had enough. She hauled them both upright, threw the blanket over their heads and took her shirt off. He froze.

A fulminating fluorescence coalesced in the confines of their darkness, a sacral sensuality that thickened with their nervous breaths. They felt the space between them as a finite entity, flowing water that connected them, brushing every part of them, sweeping delicate tendrils of skin and soul in tenuous waves of sexuality. The blanket walled them in, careening energy crammed into the confines of calico plaid, catalytic chemical reactions causing muscle contractions in the sensitive parts of their innermost beings. Their soft breaths sweeping the fibers of their world, shooting the temperature to celestial levels that left sweat beading on their necklines. A fluttering in her stomach brined in a smug satisfaction. She was winning, but at the same time, she crinkled her nose, knowing somewhere in the back of her mind that she was losing. Oh, this guy was something else.

Clasping her hands over her unveiled chest, she pleaded up at him with eyes he couldn't see, fragile illusive shadows dancing delicately behind dark lashes. With trembling breaths she brought her lips to his ear, reaching for him like a little girl, her soft, helpless sigh.

"_Touch me."_

She commanded, he obeyed.

Subtle fingertips swept up the soft lines of her stomach, running over the xylophonic fence of her ribcage, wisping the tender mound of breast to circle a neat areola. Her firming nipple, crimped between thumb and forefinger, subtle pressure in gentle twists that sent signals to her labia. His head fell low on her shoulder, bowing to nip at her collar line, dying to nibble lower. She pulled him down with her, side by side, giving him permission to kiss. With a blank subconscious, a lusting blindness, he moved down the line of her pale breast and took her into his mouth.

Tingling sensations ignited her, she let out a little gasp. His impassioned kiss, worshipping her body in soft tantalizing suction, he pressed her deeper into himself as his purest form of expression. Milky skin, smooth as salted-caramel sweeping his tongue in white chocolate succor, enflaming him with succulent ether. Then, in a final effort, _she got him._

She brought him out with no resistance on his end, and with luring curiosity, she grasped his identity. She gripped him with tentative clutches and subtle brushes, comprehending his shape, his mass, exploring him. Her conservative upbringing had forbidden her from even thinking about this, but now that it was happening, nothing felt more right. She wrapped thumb and forefinger like she wrapped her mind around him, demystifying the idea. This was going to go inside her, and it was going to hurt, but she was going to love it.

Her hand traveled all along the circumcised sculpture of his member, brazing certain glands that made him gasp, sensitive spots that made his entire body tighten. He adjusted her grip, showing her how he liked it, and together they floated off to aphelionic heights of pure liquefying electricity. As she intensified her motion below, he intensified his above, getting his teeth involved in ways that made her squeak. Like a joystick to control her own pleasure, she learned with delight how women have been controlling men since the dawn of time.

Now an interconnecting flow bound their bodies, melding them in a singular linear goal, a steady rhythm that sent them careening toward higher awareness. Pearlescent umbra, engulfing his genitals in white light, ribbons of neon ascension lulling him into a trance. Now she sensed his essence and drew in closer, taking possession of _him. _She pressed against him as if guarding him, and with aural warmth caressing him, he felt safe.

Then, a mental shift, a paralyzing high swept him to Valhalla. A wet nipple slid out from between his lips, dragging down the side of his face. He shot his hand out from under the blanket, feeling around behind him for something, anything, slapping the ground in desperation—he found a gardening glove. He gripped it around himself ironically like the thing it was. A low moan, and he was a mess.

A tidal calm…and a mental note to burn those gloves in the morning.

With his fatigues shoved down around his thighs, his shirt crumpled up under his sword harness, and his underwear not even doing what they were supposed to be doing, he fell asleep with his face pressed against hot, sticky skin.

.

[Received Hyper Wrist]


	21. Chapter 21 - Junon

A Type 1 Incident: Hollander had escaped Junon Prison. They sent Zack.

Zack and Tseng arrived on the scene to find the island city obliterated in a holocaust of flame, ransacked by troops that were all too familiar.

"Copies? Genesis is dead!" Zack yelled.

"I told you not to count on it!" And Tseng started shooting. Zack rushed into combat-mode with his sword singing.

He ran along FDR Drive—the expressway that looped around the entire island—sword flying in flarecrosses at falling clones. _Street sweeping_. He'd better be getting community service hours for this at least!

He slash-twirled his way along the Upper East Side of Junon where the buildings of the wealthy elite torched like a riot in full swing. Zack cleared his sector of clones unscathed, he could only hope the other SOLDIER's had come away as lucky as he had.

He made it down to the Disaster Zone set up under the Queensboro bridge, where FEMA personnel stood around with clipboards being about as useful as the Turks. A civilian came up to him because he was a man in uniform.

"What's going on here? Are they shooting a movie or something?"

Zack directed him to the Incident Commander of the Civilian Evacuation Site and went around to see if anyone else needed help.

A Security Officer looked flushed and flustered.

"How you doing Colonel? Everything alright here?"

The Colonel threw his hands in the air. "That rookie grunt over there got motion sickness from the helicopter ride. Here we are facing catastrophe, and he gets freaking airsick! That's just great…"

Zack caught sight of an infantry kid leaning with his head down against the bridge column. He went over to see if he could help, maybe at least get him to the medical tent.

"Hey, are you alright?" Zack asked.

The kid's helmet hung limp in his hand while his other braced him against the column. "Y-yeah. On the helicopter…I got a little nauseous."

He looked up at Zack with blue eyes like neon and blonde hair that shot to the sky. Zack's face lit up.

"Hey! Cloud!"

Cloud managed a slight smile and a shudder.

"Hi Zack. Wow, you remembered me."

"Of course I do! How could I forget?" Zack was so elated he glowed! But poor Cloud radiated the entire color spectrum between blue and green. "...Eek, you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, the last time I was on a helicopter was like the worst day of my life."

Zack beamed a smile that took in his ears, holding back the urge to just jump all over him.

"Zack!" Tseng called from across the staging area. "I need you front and center."

Zack bobbed his head, mocking the Turk, and looked back at Cloud.

"Hey listen, when all this is over, come find me in SOLDIER wing. We need to hang out!"

"Definitely! That would be great!"

"Yeah, we'll grab a bite to eat—my treat."

At the mention of food, Cloud spewed his guts out against the column.

"Whoa!" Zack stood back enthralled by the pure projectile force. "You've got some real propulsion power there. Solid four stars!"

At the restaurant reference, Cloud chucked again.

"Oh man," he shuddered. "_Embarrassing_."

"Haha! Don't worry about it! Hope you feel better."

Zack clapped him on the back, sending him into choking fits, but there was nothing left to upchuck! He went over to see what the heck Tseng wanted now, but Kunsel and Luxiere caught up with him halfway across the staging area. It was good to see they were still in one piece and looked like the clones hadn't given them too much trouble. They huddled up when they got to him.

"Hey Zack, Cissnei is here."

They saw Zack's jaw clench. His expression didn't change, but his eyes did a darkening and lightening thing that sent a shudder through their spines.

"Where did you see her?" he asked in an even tone.

"She _came up _to us. She gave me this postcard for you. I didn't know what you'd want me to do with it."

Kunsel gave him a postcard of white beaches, a tropical sun beaming down on blue waters as clear as his eyes. _Costa del Sol, _he got the reference, and the message even though there was nothing written on the card.

_What the hell_, they were in the middle of a Type 1 incident where people were wounded and structure loss was at critical levels and she drops this on him NOW? She picked the best times to try talking to him.

"You know what I want you to do with it? C'mere, I'll show you."

Zack walked over to a Parks Department garbage can, tore the card into tiny pieces, and dropped them in the tin. _Ohhhh_, Kunsel and Luxiere covered their mouths while Zack brushed his hands off in a very deliberate motion, knowing she was watching somewhere. He continued over to Tseng, but Kunsel and Luxiere did a double-take, looking at each other and back at their buddy to be sure. They saw something in Zack that they hadn't caught a glimpse of in a long time…his tail was wagging.

Tseng stood with his arms crossed, surveying the situation at the Disaster Zone.

"No sign of Hollander."

Zack stood crossing his arms likewise. "It's not over, is it?"

"We'll begin evacuating the residents. You'll secure Hollander when Intel has pinned down an attack field."

"You're making me babysit Hollander? Don't you think I'd be put to better use on the battlefield?"

"Hollander knows company secrets classified at the highest level. The President insists that he be secured."

Zack shook his head with a frustrated sigh. "This chain of command has gone straight to hell in a handbasket."

"Shinra wanted their best operator on this job, so they called you."

Zack looked up. He'd been a 1st for a while now but it was the first time he'd ever heard that. The magnitude of that statement stuck out in his being for later contemplation.

Tseng's phone rang. He answered it without a word and the expression on his face told Zack the whole story. They'd found him.

"Zack. Junon Cannon. Go!"

He rushed off at full sprint to leap off steel girders onto the bridge. He ran up to the gondola, swiping his ID card at the turnstile which doubled as his Metro card—_man it's $2.75 a ride now_—and rode it over to Roosevelt Island.

The island was a manufactured structure that hosted the monumental Junon Cannon. Technically registered as a monument with the city, a little museum was situated at its port for the tourists. Zack rode up a platform airlift to the main level, where he saw Hollander running for his life toward the airship dock.

"That's far enough!" Zack yelled as he rushed up with a hand on his sword hilt, cornering the scientist at the edge of the platform.

Hollander turned in a slow shuffle to meet the SOLDIER. He was at the edge now, nowhere to run. He shook in horror-gaped spasms, pale as a ghost.

"Really?" Hollander leered with a wry smile. "You sure?"

Something about this whole scene seemed eerily familiar to Zack, like something out of a stage-play he'd seen before, and he realized his error.

"Hey!" Zack ran to him, but Hollander backfell off the platform. He reached the edge in time to see the doc carried off by two flying Genesis clones.

"Mission failed," a familiar velveteen voice spoke behind him. "This goes on your permanent record."

Zack whipped around, his mouth gaping in awe.

"Sephiroth!"

And there he was, the living star, standing in defiance of the sun. He looked at Zack with that secretive gaze, that guarded composure that hid the subtle sarcasm in his voice. So this was the ghost Hollander had been running from.

"Let the Turks take care of the rest. I was on my way to Headquarters, but I heard you were in the area."

He walked past with that cool saunter, that flowing stride. He'd come to see _Zack_.

Sephiroth looked out over the edge of the platform, staring out into the sunset. "The situation has not resolved. Genesis sightings have been pouring in from around the world."

Zack stared out at the sunset with him.

"That can't be. Genesis is dead. I saw him…" Zack stopped, remembering. He bore into Sephiroth with a certain stare that the man returned right back.

"Did you see him die?" he asked Zack.

"I saw him fall…" But he realized the error of his ways. Sephiroth was always the bane of absolute truth; always confirm the kill. Zack struggled, remembering the day, while Sephiroth looked back out at the fading horizon.

"They've been sighted in Midgar as well."

"…I see."

"…The Slums too."

Zack's eyes flew into planning, a million thoughts swirling in his ocean irises. Sephiroth saw, glancing at the young SOLDIER with the subtlest of gazes as if he was trying to peer underneath a parapet. Was that worry he caught?

"Permission to return…granted."

And the most elusive grin escaped him. Here was a man of few words.

Zack stood stunned as they lingered on the airship platform, parhelion umbras encircling them from the sky.

"Take care," Sephiroth waved him off, and he was dismissed.

"You too," Zack added after a long moment. His attention remained transfixed on Sephiroth.

The man stared off into the sun, bathed in an aural radiance that gleaned off him in a stellar eclipse. Zack hesitated, wanting to speak, wanting nothing more in life than to say words that wouldn't come. Sephiroth waited while Zack lifted a hand with an opened mouth, nothing. The words were dead air caught in his throat.

The slightest grin escaped the man's silver countenance. "We'll meet again soon."

A wagging finger, and Zack pursed his lips.

"I'll hold you to that."

And he started away from the cannon bulkhead.

He didn't see the warm glow in Sephiroth's eyes as he watched him go. Zack had changed so much since Wutai—he'd grown. He strode with his sword like it had never belonged anywhere else, like the sword had chosen a new master, and it suited him. With the wind at his back and the sun in his hair, a thought crept through Sephiroth's mind as he watched Zack walk away with the sword of a dear friend on his shoulder.

_Angeal, you did a great job with him._

_._

[Received Dragon Armlet]


	22. Chapter 22 - Hustle & Flow

With the clone insurgency rebooted in full swing, Midgar was under increasing threat, the infrastructural backbone of the city a high-priority target. The industrial districts of Sector 6 came under constant attack. Zack ran out there alone to find the Security Branch rolling up on his zone.

_Oh hell no_. They were trying to scalp his mission! Slim pickings at Shinra lately, not if Zack had anything to say about it!

"What's up guys? The _Fountain District _get a little too hairy for you?"

Security guys threw their hands up at Zack insinuating they couldn't even patrol a safe area. They started railing on SOLDIER, getting riled up, Zack took smug satisfaction in getting a rise out of them.

"You wanna bet on it?" the Security Commander challenged, and Zack was about to stand down in the midst of an entire armed patrol.

But wait! A realization, an epiphany crossed Zack's evil streak of a dark heart—maybe, just _maybe—_he took a terrible risk.

"Okay," Zack smirked. "I'll bet you that I can take an entire Sector faster than all of the Security Branch combined! I'll even take one of your guys with me to witness."

"Negative! This threat is real and I need all my men!"

"Give me your smallest, weakest, least experienced guy as a handicap."

"Handicap?"

"Yeah, _handicap. _Come on, you game?"

The Commander leered, putting a bull hand on a smug chin.

"STRIFE! FRONT AND CENTER!"

Their youngest recruit hurried to push through the ranks, stumbling to stand at attention before the Commander and Zack. Neon blue eyes flew wide under blonde spikes that shot to the sky. All flushed and discombobulated, Private Cloud Strife flashed a winded salute, and Zack bit his tongue to hide the excitement.

"You still _game_, SOLDIER?" the Commander taunted.

Zack walked around the kid, inspecting, debating.

"…_Ehrrnn_…I dunno…"

"What's the matter _SOLDIER_? Scared?"

"No way!"

"Then it's double-or-nothing!"

"You're on!"

They shook hands as hard as they could, knuckles cracking and glares flaring. Zack stormed off toward his Sector fuming.

"Let's go small fry! You better not mess me up!"

Cloud trotted after the SOLDIER tripping over his own feet, stumbling once on a street curb as Security laughed and waved. As soon as they rounded the corner, Cloud and Zack dropped the act, fell in step with each other and swaggered into combat-mode.

They headed for an industrial rail yard where satellite coms pinned down clones amassing. Zack ran into the courtyard while Cloud scampered up a service ladder outside a factory building, giving him a clear view of the overhead lay. Zack grabbed to draw his sword, but stopped.

"_Hmm._ I want to try something…" And he took his hand off the hilt, leaving the sword sheathed over his back.

They came, the first wave of clones sprinted in small scattered groups flooding into the industrial yard. Zack crossed his arms up at Cloud, letting him know to catch them in the crossfire, and ran into the fray to start trouble.

First up—a tri-formal assault team. They all three came flying high at him. He diverolled under them as they flew right into Cloud's bullet spray. Three more ran in from the steps, a spinning roundhouse kick sent all three flying. Zack felt a sick rush invade him as boot sole connected with broken face.

_So this is why Angeal did it!_

With an evil smile and a lost light returning to his eyes, he cracked his knuckles raring to find another fight. He'd forgotten how much fun hunting was, and now he'd flipped the play-mode up a notch!

A double-scimitared clone flew solo leaving his chest exposed. Zack gave him the Almighty Boot straight into a wall. His gunner, meanwhile, called down at him from the catwalk.

"Hey Liu Kang, do what you did on the big screen!"

Cloud wanted him to do the showstopper kick. Could he still do a flying outside-crescent kick? Sure he could! He hadn't done it since he was twelve but that was no excuse! Three ran at him, little hops to wind up, and…

_OWWW MY GROIN!_

The back of Zack's boot flared in a beautiful elliptical arc to connect with three jaws and land him back in fighter's stance…cross-eyed. _Cannot. Show. Pain. _

Cloud was clapping as another clone dashed in at him. Zack jump-kicked off a wall to slam a steel-toed boot into the clone's teeth. So much for dental insurance.

Next wave!

A spear thrust at him, he _caught it, _shoved it down, then back-spun with a slamfist against a thick skull. He kept the spear. _Mine now. _

Zack spun that spear in a hypervescent arc, knocking a clutch of clones into the outfield.

"Hey short-stop! How'ya like that fast ball?"

Cloud laughed as he laid suppression fire down around Zack's left flank. The next group of clones rushed at Zack from behind. He dashed into a cartwheel over an embankment, the clones paused, apparently they were confused by angles. A whirling jump-slash with that spear sent them careening like bowling pins. The next few ran in to replace them. He back-leapt onto a concrete slab, then flare-kicked out to throw _them _back, landing in combat stance like a boss. Too easy! These clones fought like they were just preprogramed scripts…_oh, wait…_

A line of clones sprinted in drive-formation single-file. Zack chucked the spear straight through all of them like he was sewing buttons. Another lance came at him. Zack caught it and did something he found very humorous. He caught the clone's hand on the lance so he couldn't let go and ran him around straight into a wall! Out cold.

"Aw yeah!"

A clone swung a hammerfist down at him which Zack caught. A high-low kick to the kidney and ribs, down and out. Next!

Zack rocked a heavy-handed fighting style, the only way to get the job done. After all, the harder he hit them, the quicker they dropped!

Meanwhile, Cloud cocked an eyebrow at the perfectly good sword still sheathed over Zack's back.

"You going to use that oversized butter knife?" he called down.

"Nah—this thing's heavy and unwieldy."

Cloud threw his hands up. "Then bring a lighter one!"

Zack side-chopped another clone. "I happen to _like _big swords—big, long, pointy, girthy swords that make your hands red. I nicknamed her rosy-palms."

Cloud chuckled.

Then Zack's expression turned to horror as a monumental Judge Mech dropped in behind Cloud.

"Cloud look out!"

Zack threw his sword in a boomerang whip as Cloud dropped flat to his stomach. It sailed over him stabbing the Judge Mech straight into the back wall, where the Mech disintegrated into blue ribbons of light.

Cloud stood up with wide eyes as Zack dodged swings and swipes from below.

"Hey!" he called up. "Can you toss me my sword down? I kinda need that for work."

Cloud looked at the sword, then back at Zack.

"Might as well ask me to pull the Sword from the Stone, Zack."

He ducked a scimitar slice.

"Just wedge your rifle between it or something."

"If I get it out, can I rule a kingdom with it?"

"If you can lift it, you can have it."

Then Zack went back to back-spinning elbows into clone jawbones.

Cloud grabbed the handle of the sword, pulling at it with all his power, no give whatsoever! He put his back against the blade, pushing his feet off the railing, with a handful of bounces he was finally able to shift it by a millimeter. While Zack was down below fighting clone insurgents barehanded, Cloud was jumping on top of his sword.

He managed to finally jimmy it out enough to drop on the ground, where it pulled his arms practically out of their sockets before falling flat like a fat beagle! He sat down between the wall and the sword, slamming his boots into the blunt side of the blade.

"Mother of…"

With all his might and hipflexor strength, he slid the sword one kick at a time over the edge of the catwalk.

"Here's your flattened railroad track!" he yelled to Zack, who caught it with one hand transferring it to his back in a fluid spin. Cloud mumbled to himself at that. "Remind me never to arm-wrestle you."

Running amok around the rail yard, Zack started singing amid bash-roulette beatdown.

"_Everywhere I go, every clone I see, I know you will die, smiling up at me_. Break it down now!...Oh yeah!...Stuntin'!"

He sent clones flying like airmail, stacking bodies like he was building a clone wall. He'd call it The Great Clone Wall.

"One, two, skip a few, ninety-nine, one-hundred!"

He was having way too much fun breaking clone faces, as well as company policy about unnecessary violence in uniform. After all, it looked terrible on the agency.

"Hey Cloud! Did you see that one movie? I think it was called Attack of the Clones."

Cloud cringed in disgust.

"That movie sucked!"

"Hah!"

With bullet spray and bareknuckle brawl-melee, Zack and Cloud drove the clones into a frenzied mess, flashing Avalanche gang signs back and forth at each other for fun.

"Clone killaz!"

Cloud shot his rifle one-handed just to fit the role.

"Hey Zack!" he called down.

"Yo!"

"Can I use your sword to scrape the mayo off my sandwich?"

Zack squinted up at him.

"You're not fat Cloud! Eat your mayo."

Two clones rushed in from each side of him. He double-slammed both fists straight out into their chests sending them careening back, dropping their scimitars in the process at Zack's feet like little presents. A terrible gleam of mischief flickered in his eyes, he was about to be a very bad man. He snatched the scimitars up in a whirling flash flaring the blades like flower petals.

"_Come at me bro." _

They flew in from all sides, and Zack could practically feel the atrocious techno music that would have gone perfect with what he was about to do to them.

One leapt off the stairs with a shout. A high-low slam hit with both blades turned that shout into a pig squeal as he dropped. Another flew at Zack with mace overhead. He upblocked with the swords, double-slashed cross-chest with blade following blade, then spun in a hypervescent arc-slash to send the clone flying back out the way he flew in. Upcrash to low swipe he bash-twirled his scimitar blades to cut short the high-flying aerials of overly-flamboyant clones. With the ridiculous dance music stuck in his head and the fact that they couldn't have picked a bigger flamer to clone leering in front of him, Zack shook his head. _I feel like I'm at a big gay nightclub! _

Eventually all the clones laid scattered and twitching like dead insects and it was just them like good old times, Zack showing off in fighters stance down low, and Cloud sporting his rifle up high. Zack stuck his hips out like a girl, planting two fingers on his left thigh to let Cloud know where he could kiss. With tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, Cloud made a stroking motion at his mouth, letting Zack know where _he _could kiss.

Then Cloud grabbed for his rifle in a flurry. A lone straggler rushed up from behind, but Zack was _in the way_!

"Zack get down!"

Cloud shot off a streetlight ricocheting a round straight into the clone's skull to drop at Zack's feet. Zack's eyebrows flew to the sky.

A minute to gather his wits and scan the field as Cloud jumped off the catwalk jogging over. Zack sauntered to him, then he clapped Cloud's hand in a bro-fist.

"And _THAT _is how you hustle Security dogs!"

Zack reached into his pocket to get some X-Potions for them.

"How the _hell _did you hit that reverb shot?" Zack asked as he flicked a marble over his head.

"Well, I just kind of fired, then moved the bullet with my mind…"

"Haha! Where'd you learn to shoot like that? Security sure didn't teach you."

Cloud flicked his own X-Potion at himself, and looked at Zack like _duh._

"Country boy."

Security rolled up to see a battlefield strewn with dead clones and Zack standing with his sword not even drawn.

"Oh what the hell!?" the Commander spat.

Cloud looped his arms over his shouldered rifle, while Zack stood checking his nails.

"…So, double-or-nothing…"

Zack and Cloud split the winnings with a high-five and went back to their units with the same cool smirk on each of their faces.

.

[Received Sniper Eye]


	23. Chapter 23 - Seventh Heaven

"Hey Zack, could you do my next mission for me?"

"What? I've done your last ten missions for you!"

"Yeah, but my squad leader said if I screw this next one up, he's gonna fire me! You're so much better at these things than I am."

"Aaarrgghh, alright. Give me your ID Card, I'll go to the VR Room for you. But this is the LAST TIME!"

"Thanks Zack, you're a real pal."

Five minutes later in SOLDIER wing…

"Hey Zack?"

"Yeah Kunsel?"

"Could you help me move my stuff in barracks? I hustled my way into a sweeter piece of real estate on the south end but I've gotta move in like ASAP."

"Can it wait until after work?"

"Ehhhh…"

"Okay, just give me like twenty minutes. I have to do something in the VR Room."

"Set a reminder so you don't forget this time."

Zack set two reminders on the to-do list of his phone and carried on, not making it more than ten steps before…

"Zack, you got a minute?" Luxiere asked him.

"No, but what's up?"

"Dude I lost my wallet. My Shinra ID card was in there and everything! How am I supposed to even get into my room without my key-card?"

"Just go to Personnel and get another one."

"Maaaan, if I go tell them I lost my ID card, they'll give me a plumb one. Don't make me get the plumb one, Zack! You know what that's like!"

Zack sighed. "Fine, look, can you give me a few minutes? There's a couple people in line in front of you."

"Thank you thank you thank you Zack! You're awesome buddy."

He set another reminder and kept going, all through SOLDIER wing…

"Zack…"

"Hey Zack.."

"Yo Zack, can you…?"

"Can you do me a…?"

"Zack."

"_Zack_."

"ZACK!"

He had twenty reminders on the to-do list of his phone, stomping through SOLDIER wing with smoke steaming from his ears, when he heard his name again…

"Zack."

He whirled to shout like a girl on her period but found Sephiroth standing behind him. The big man took a breath to issue an order…

"I think…tonight looks like a drinks night."

Zack stood at attention, a wide smile creeping from ear to ear.

"You read my mind!"

"Come find me after your shift is over."

He walked off and Zack clicked up to the to-do list of his phone.

*_DELETE ALL*_

Later on in the lockerroom, everyone forgot about all the things they'd asked Zack to do, which made him think that's why they asked him to do things for them all the time.

Zack opened his locker only to have paperwork spill out. Oh yeah he forgot he was supposed to fill those out like a century ago. Whatever, shove them far in the back and throw stuff on top of them, maybe they'd go away.

He gave his hair a few licks with a pocket comb…this did not go unnoticed.

"Whoa, watch out guys! Zack's got a hot date!"

"Yeah, with _Sephiroth_."

"AAAAOOOOWWWW!"

The lockerroom howled! People bowed while others made sucking noises.

"Hey Zack, who am I?" a kid flattened himself pantless against a locker. Zack lit up in recognition.

"Your sister last Sunday in church!"

And more hollers ensued.

Outside the Shinra building, he found Sephiroth waiting for him. He threw an awkward wave that the big man didn't return.

"Shall we?" Sephiroth asked. Zack gave a nervous nod and followed him to the train station.

Zack fidgeted in his seat as a street performer got on at the Loveless avenue stop, belting in grating high-pitched vocals. Sephiroth made a motion of touching his earlobe, and Zack caught a glimpse of his ear-canal. Was that...plastic? Whatever, Sephiroth was probably a cyborg.

They got off at Union Avenue in the Sector 7 Slums, which surprised Zack. A bar nearby with sheet-metal roofing and neon-signage of beers on tap practically dripped sketch. A "new management" sign hung in the window. Sephiroth walked right up to it.

They went in to the sound of factory-workers chatting and steel-toed boots clunking on the floor-boards. Inside was a wood-floored smoking joint, with handmade tables and barstools that didn't have cushions. A cash-only dive for cash-only people, it had a certain gutterpunk charm.

A busty girl with green pinned-up hair was bartending tonight. When she saw the two SOLDIER's waltz into her joint, she put her hands on her hips.

"Come on fellas, can't you read?" She pointed to a sign by the door.

_NO SWORDS._

Sephiroth and Zack stashed their blades in a coat closet and went over to get some drinks. The bartender smiled at Sephiroth like she knew him.

"What'll it be this time hun?"

"The usual."

"For you bae?" She nodded at Zack.

"…Uh, whatever he's having."

And she smiled like she was enjoying a private joke. Oh man, Zack hoped he wasn't in for something he couldn't handle.

She served them red drinks in rocks glasses which they took to a table by the back window—the seats at the bar were for the working class nightshifters who'd earned them. He noticed how Sephiroth respected it.

Zack took his seat uptight, while hard eyes in front of him peered as if they knew something he did not.

"So, _SOLDIER 1st Class Zack Fair_. If you don't mind me asking, what do you do when you're not being a SOLDIER 1st Class?"

"Uhhh…" Now he knew how Angeal felt when Zack asked him what he did when he wasn't running around being a SOLDIER. A subtle tinge of inquisitiveness crossed Sephiroth's velveteen vestige.

"Is every waking moment consumed by your quest to be a hero? It is a noble endeavor, wholly attainable by someone like yourself. But all work and no play makes for a pissed-off paratrooper. Is there nothing you do for fun?"

"Oh, uh, I game actually." He felt a little embarrassed. "I play videogames."

"All the kids are these days. What do you play?"

"...Anything really, I play everything!" Zack started listing them, from MMO's he haunted to the games he'd made Angeal play. Sephiroth admitted with a coy smile to playing Fruit Ninja on his cellphone. He said Angry Birds just made him, well, angry.

"I'm actually modding this one game right now," Zack continued, "it's an RPG and I'm tweaking the storyline."

"Modding?"

"Modifying. Don't mind my gamer lingo, my inner geek slips his leash sometimes."

"I see, and how are you modifying said game?"

And Zack talked about what programs he was using, how he was getting into certain types of coding. Modifying a game was proving to be as much fun as playing one.

"Is there a specific reason you're doing this?" Sephiroth implored.

"I didn't like the ending. It was such a cop-out! There was a story line and then everything went full-on bizarro world! It's not fair because this game is really important to a lot of people. To mess with it for a quick buck is dissing the fans who kept it alive for so long. So I guess that's why I'm doing it, for the community, for honor's sake."

"You seem pretty passionate about what you do. Have you ever thought about doing it as a career?"

"What? Oh no! I'd never do it as more than a hobby. It's fun, helps me calm down, and man I need it sometimes."

"Don't we all."

The bartender bopped over and laid another drink in front of Zack, already. It made him tense. He didn't want to come off as if he drank like that.

"Um…what about you? What do you do for fun?" but he cocked an eyebrow. "...I'm guessing you have fun, right?"

Sephiroth grinned at the small gibe. "I read, mainly."

"Oh sweet, what do you read?"

"Believe it or not…Stage plays."

"WHAAAA?"

"I actually learned to read off Loveless when I was a child."

"Whoa, pretty heavy reading for a little kid."

"Indeed. But I don't just read Loveless, I read all manner of dramatic works. I read this one about a canary recently that was quite good."

"Eh, don't mean to tread on sour topics but...any connection to, you know, the other 1st who read plays?"

"Genesis did to impress me, if that makes sense."

"Ew."

"Quite."

"Well, I guess that would explain why my inbox is flooded with guys half the time; some other 1st set a, uh, precedent."

"Precisely why I haven't checked mine in three years."

"Aw that's no fun though! You need to get someone you really don't like to comb through it for you!...Hey, you should have gotten Lazard to do it!"

"Errrggh, that would have been a true administrative nightmare. But you seem to rather enjoy it…?"

"Oh, well, I am only SOLDIER 1st Class Zack Fair. It's a hard life being a celebrity…" Zack kicked back in his chair and Sephiroth chuckled. That was big, the equivalent of him in stitches!

"...Actually, I kinda distance myself from it too. I think I've got something like 100,000 followers on Facebook now, mostly crossovers from Angeal's fanclub that have kind of adopted me because they think I'm cute. I'm nowhere near your power-level though. Two million fans! Wow!"

"Precisely why I have to come to dive bars in the Slums to drink."

"I'm in your fan club too! I'm all into it. I've got the daikatana letter-opener, the Sephiroth chibi doll, the polygon keychain…" Sephiroth _cringed_. "It's no joke! I had to like take a multiple-choice test to get in. I almost failed it too and I work with you! Pretty embarrassing."

"And yet somehow all those people still managed to know things about me that even my closest confidantes didn't."

"Hah, shows you how obsessed some people can get."

"Angeal and I made a lifestyle out of avoiding the limelight. Genesis, he fed off it. However, Angeal at least always managed to keep key personal details a secret, his age for one. This he took a strange pride in."

"I gotta ask…was he really 39?"

Sephiroth laughed. Wow, Zack was on a roll tonight!

"If he says so."

"Oh what! I knew it! How old was he?"

"Apparently it was his dying wish that he be 39, so that's where we're at."

"C'mon. You have to give me a hint."

Sephiroth thought for a minute. "Did you ever get a look at his music collection?"

"…Oh…My…God…"

They loosened up, bantering as if they'd known each other forever, and as if another dear friend was with them in spirit. After a year of not even saying his name, talking about him was a rush of elation to Zack. They would veer from airy to darker subjects in time as their talk took on a solemn air.

"How long was Genesis doing Dancer?" Zack threw it out there, and Sephiroth grunted.

"He was doing that long before I met him, which was quite a long time ago. He was in Angeal's life before he was in mine."

Now something darker crept into the back of Zack's subconscious, a cold needle of truth threatening to pierce his self-constructed reality.

"…Did Angeal…"

"Of course not. Angeal never touched Dancer, just smoked pot on the weekends off company time."

Zack froze. A dripping hurt bled across his eyes, a dagger tip running in a drag-line over his heart. Now, with Sephiroth's words—always the bane of absolute truth—his worldview came crashing down.

"Zack…" Sephiroth bore into him, cerulean daggers peering straight through his soul. "We are not angels, we are only human. And as people, we get as close to perfect as humanly possible, which is usually what ends up killing us in the end."

His words were antifreeze, a sweet poison that numbed his autonomic senses.

"…Is that what's going to happen to me?..."

"…If you stay in this company long enough, you'll be on every drug in the Merck Manual."

Zack felt a wave of despair sweep over him—Sephiroth wasn't treating Zack like a child. If they were just two men at a bar, maybe Zack had a right to ask grown-up questions.

"Since we're on the topic of…medication…Do you mind if I ask?"

"…You may."

"What's it for?" What he really wanted to say was, what's wrong?

"I'm a SOLDIER, I have _flashbacks_…like you."

Sephiroth's gaze peered into him like cerulean lancets. Something stirred in Zack's heart, a kinship, but he caught himself as a darker threat of truth crept into his mind. Zack's eyes darkened toward the man in front of him as he tensed, remembering Sephiroth's own words: Trust no one.

Sephiroth saw him phase, expecting as much.

"No, I'm not on Dancer. I've never touched the stuff, or anything else of a recreational nature. And believe me when I say Angeal and I both tried our hardest to step in for Genesis. You are from a small town, correct?" Zack nodded. "Then I'm sure you'll understand what it's like trying to help people who don't want to be helped."

"Heh, yeah, I also know they deny everything when you confront them about it." He instantly regretted saying that, but Sephiroth pulled out his two vials and laid them on the table before Zack.

"This blue vial is a low-dose antipsychotic. That sounds worse than it is. It acts as a mood stabilizer and helps regulate a slight heart-murmur. I take half in the afternoon and half in the evening on a regiment, I have since I was your age. What did they give you in Costa del Sol, if you don't mind me asking?"

Zack winced, remembering his little stint on the druggie-drugs.

"Tch, Lemonade."

"Ah, I see. Be glad you didn't get the apple cider."

Another revelation…Sephiroth knew that Zack was at Costa del Sol, when he was there, and why he was there…

"What about the green one then?"

"This…is for emergencies."

He studied it under Sephiroth's finger, cranial green next to a cyanotic blue, and Zack realized with a twinge of apprehension what it was: Paralyze Materia.

"What sort of emergencies?"

"Ones you'll never need to find out. I've never had to use it once, ever."

Zack studied Sephiroth for a long while. He seemed every bit the shining image of the hero of Shinra, but up close, Zack could see the health problems like stitches bursting at the seams. Zack saw now that he was a true albino, even his eyebrows were white.

Sephiroth was the singular most beautiful man Zack had ever met, next to which Genesis was a flippant and an imitator. With a jawline that flowed like a skyline and angular features that seemed to taper inward at his chin, Zack could tell that he had once been small. It was so hard to picture the monolithic gladiator in front of him as a little guy, like Cloud! What he must have gone through to get to the polar opposite of the spectrum he started out at…

Zack leaned forward in his chair.

"What are your triggers? What's your dosage? How much can you take at one time?"

A flicker lit up Sephiroth's eyes.

"Why are you so intrigued all of the sudden?"

"Look. Angeal hid his problems from me, and I lost him. I'm probably not going through anything near what you are, but I get it, and I want to help. I feel like you wouldn't be telling me all this stuff otherwise, and…I'd be honored."

A warm look crossed Sephiroth's eyes.

"Don't worry. It will never come to that."

"Um, does your student know any of this?"

At that, he put the vials back in his pocket.

"My student knows all of it. I'm not a man who can hide my difficulties as well as some. If anyone wishes to ridicule me for my battles, let them come and try it to my face." And Zack's eyes filled with awe. Angeal hid his battles from others, while Sephiroth chose not to. Zack liked him.

"You know...I don't know. People like to say tough it out and all, and I guess that's how Angeal felt. Everyone in the organization talks about the Pride of a SOLDIER, but…eerrnh…is there a such thing as good pride and bad pride? Dunno if I'm making sense."

"The term you're looking for is hubris," Sephiroth assured him.

"It's like…I guess he didn't want to disappoint me. It's funny, all the while I was running around trying not to disappoint him. Maybe he thought I'd put him on a pedestal, and that he had a duty to stand on it, not just for me but for everyone, it's true that everyone did look up to him. I appreciate him trying to give me something to aspire to, it's more than my stepdad ever did for me. It's just…like…I mean…"

Sephiroth stared at him hard, an order in his fixed gaze. "Say it…for the first time."

"…I'm _pissed-off_ at him."

Zack whirled as the doors of his mind flew open. He ran a hand over his face to keep it in.

"When it came down to it, he chose his honor over me. Screw me, I guess. I want to be a hero too, but being a hero doesn't mean hurting people to get there…"

Sephiroth raised his eyebrows at cute little naïve Zack. _Au contraire_.

"…I mean, I really gave a damn about him, I don't care if I sound selfish but he should have thought about me. He should have…"

"Center yourself…" Sephiroth caught him, holding up two fingers in front of him. Zack hadn't realized his elevated heart rate, how he gripped the edges of the table hard. Sephiroth's hand brought him back down, all energy dissipating like floating particles leaving his body.

"Sorry...If it were me in his place, I like to think things would have been different. I'm everyone's friend, I can't imagine life without my friends. It makes me think that I'd throw it all away, I'd give up all my honor in a heartbeat for the ones I care about…"

It hit him, a revelation that stung like absolute truth, that made Zack gaze listless at the stained ceiling.

"…Aw man, that's how they get you isn't it? Through the people you're close to."

Zack noted Sephiroth gazing at him, a knowing glow in his irises. Here indeed was a man who talked with his eyes. A wry grin of Zack's own crossed his eyes as he pointed a leering finger at the big man.

"Hey…don't look at me like that, I know that look."

And Sephiroth laughed. "My apologies. Angeal and I…this was our favorite past-time. We'd go to little dive bars and philosophize until last-call."

"So that's where he got it all! Man, I used to not be able to keep up with Angeal to save my life. I can only imagine what your student goes through."

"She has her own opinions. By now she'd be screaming them at me."

"Haha, hair-trigger eh?"

"She invented the term. Has it elevated to an artform by now."

"Not trying to be forward or anything, but I think she's so cool. What's her name?"

"On paper, she has no name, but I have one I call her. You'll have to ask her it yourself."

"Don't think I'll get that chance. I kinda got off on the wrong foot with her last time."

"I'll introduce you the next time she reports in. She can be a little standoffish, she's like that with everyone."

"I'd love to meet her! I mean I have a girlfriend and all but I'd just like to know her. I didn't think a girl would ever even be able to make it into SOLDIER, what with all the squats they made us do in A-School."

"Oh trust me, she can squat you into the ground."

Zack's eyebrows rose to the ceiling. The leering look in the man's eyes like he was trying to contain a smirk gave everything away, and a wide smile crept across Zack's face.

Zack raised his drink to it.

"Here's to…ah…physical fitness…"

That smirk came out in full force as they knocked glasses, with Sephiroth seeming truly human in Zack's eyes.

Everything else that could be said on the topic was personal, so Sephiroth changed the subject.

"So, I'm sure you have Angeal's famous lectures memorized to the letter as I have, involuntarily I'll add, but I am curious to compare notes. What did he say to you about what honor is?"

"He said I had to figure it out for myself," Zack shrugged.

"And have you figured it out yet? What does honor mean to Zack Fair?"

"Honor means…admitting your shortcomings, accepting them, and overcoming them. It means not claiming to be more than you are, or less than you are. It's doing the right thing, all the time, no matter what."

"Close…but no cigar."

"What?"

Now Sephiroth peered over at the bar, ignoring Zack's cocked head and raised eyebrow.

"…See that girl over there? The bartender."

"Do I see that girl over there? I've only been staring at her all night." Zack held up his empty drink trying to get her attention. "Solid eight and a half."

"Go talk to her."

"W-what?"

"You heard me."

"Are you crazy? Aerith would kill me!"

"She'd never know."

"Like hell she'd never know! With the way the Turks watch both of us, she'd know five minutes from now."

"They're not watching you tonight…You're with me. The Turks give me a wide berth."

"Don't get me wrong though, I'm just widow-shopping."

"So put your money where your mouth is and buy the merchandise."

"Yeah but…but…"

"But you don't want to."

"…"

Sephiroth leaned forward with an elbow on the table, boring into Zack with resounding seriousness that sliced like the edge of a daikatana.

"Everything in our beings is hardwired for our benefit, anything that benefits us in any way we are programed to pursue, even if it means stepping on other people in order to attain that which we seek. The only thing that keeps us from being absolute monsters is honor—the fact that we could go and do whatever we damn well please, but don't, out of consideration for others. Other people know this about you, wicked men like Lazard seek to exploit the virtue of others in order to benefit themselves—as they are programed to do. You must be aware of this, everyone around you is aware of your desire for composure; if you try to gain honor the honorable way, you will die trying. So sometimes you have to modify your virtues in order to achieve your goals."

"And what's your virtue then, if not honor?"

"Strategy. Strategy modifies the virtue of honor without compromising it. You're correct in that honor means doing the right thing in spite of itself. But sometimes, in strategy, honor can be doing all the wrong things in all the right ways."

Sephiroth took Zack's empty glass and switched it with his. Sure enough, the bartender bounced right over with a bright smile to give Sephiroth a new one. He left $20 gil on the table…they knew him alright. He switched their glasses back as Zack's jaw hit the ground.

He took a sip to absorb everything.

"What is this, my fourth? Why am I not getting anywhere on this? What's in here anyway?"

He grabbed a drink list off another table and took a look.

_The Usual: For hustlers who want to look like they're drinking. Good for card games. Also known as a Shirley Temple_

Now Zack's jaw really hit the ground. Sephiroth didn't want to get Zack drunk, he just wanted to get him talking! Oh this devious rotten snake! He looked up to see the big man smirking, and Zack's eyes peeled to sharp slits.

Sephiroth couldn't help laughing. "Alright. We'll do something real before we get out of here."

Zack followed Sephiroth to the bar, where the busty bartender leaned with a cute smile over the counter for them. Sephiroth glanced _down_ with the subtly of a hawk. The girl nodded.

She brought a bottle up from under the bar—they kept something special for him. Zack saw neon green wormwood-liquor glowing in an unlabeled bottle.

"Are we shooting pure Mako now?"

"Might as well be," Sephiroth replied.

"Spoons love?" the bartender asked, Sephiroth shook his head. The girl smiled as she poured them each a shot of absinthe.

Sephiroth took his in hand and Zack followed clumsy, trying not to spill any.

"Do you know how to do this?" he asked Zack.

"Uh…"

"Deep breath, exhale, throw it straight back. Don't let it touch your tongue. One hit."

Sephiroth took his shot and set the glass down on the bar. Zack took his and ended up on the bar.

"HOLY SHEEEEESSSS!"

He coughed his brains out while Sephiroth looked on in approval.

"There's a SOLDIER 1st Class in you after all."

"_HERRNNNHH_."

"Don't die on me though, they'll make me scrape your body outside with a shovel."

They got their swords and left with a wave, Zack tripping down the stairs. They got off the lightrail in Sector 8 and Zack felt a surge of happy juice shoot into his brain. He talked to Sephiroth like he used to talk to Angeal back when he'd first become his student, the kind of endless babble that made Angeal stand him on tables in the break room. Sephiroth steadied Zack with a hand on his shoulder when he almost ran into a lamp post.

At the steps in front of Shinra HQ, Sephiroth and Zack stopped dead in their tracks as someone who was truly a showstopper strutted down toward them. Her mane of volcanic tendrils flared around the body of a dominatrix, her voluptuous figure bouncing in business strides contained within a suit fit for a goddess, or a General. Her aura blazed like a spear cavalry hurling a battle cry to her enemies.

_Look upon me and despair._

She cursed up a storm into her cellphone, and the cellphone cringed back in fear. But Sephiroth smiled at her.

"Hello Scarlett."

"DAMN YOU SEPHIROTH I AM NOT AFRAID OF YOU! IF YOU MAKE EYES AT ME ONE MORE TIME I'M GOING TO TEAR YOUR HAIR OUT AND SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT!"

Zack's blood rushed from his face as she continued yelling into her cellphone. He felt sorry for the Bluetooth.

"We're friends," Sephiroth reassured him as they continued into HQ.

Zack talked up a whirlwind in the elevator.

"…And that's what I think of the State of the Union revolving around Midgar's Urban Development and the President's official delegation toward all his cabinet and chiefs of staff. Where are we again? Oh! Well this is my stop. Thanks for taking me out tonight, man. I had a blast!"

"The pleasure is mine. Come find me sometime when you are free. We will do this again."

"Oh heck yeah! This is the start of a great partnership," Zack said as he stepped out of the elevator into SOLDIER wing. "You take care of yourself now, for the Pride of a SOLDIER. Remember our motto, _One of us, All of us_. Good night, and good luck. Zack Fair: Out!"

He threw Sephiroth a full-parade salute, and fell flat on his back. Sephiroth chuckled as the doors closed.

Zack's friends rushed around him, peering down on him in a circle.

"He wore you out!"

"Duuuuuuude, what was it like?"

Zack cocked a cross-eyed drunken smile up at them.

"Intoxicating."

*_Hiccup_*

.

[Received Hero Drink]


	24. Chapter 24 - The Way of the Sword

A month went by and Sephiroth was in and out. Zack caught a glimpse of him once heading up to Command, but he didn't see Zack, besides he looked like was about to desecrate a small army with the way he was stomping. Who was even running this show now anyway?

Regardless of the checked-out Chain of Command, he really wanted to hang out with Sephiroth again. He resolved to go out on a limb and ask the guy.

He took the elevator to the floor above SOLIDER wing and got out in a long hallway…no doors? He turned the corner to find a simple slide-door with a key-code lock like Zack's. Well, this was it…

He went to knock on the door and hesitated. Now Zack felt like he was asking him out on a date. He couldn't do it, he felt beyond stupid. If Sephiroth had truly wanted to hang out with Zack again, he would have found him by now.

He turned away, finding Sephiroth right behind him.

"Coming in?"

Zack swallowed with a nod, while Sephiroth swiped his ID card and let them in.

Zack beheld an open hardwood loft space set against full floor-to-ceiling shatterproof windows, looking out onto a panoramic view of the Midgar City skyline in twilight. He caught the pungent waft of incense—dragon's blood—and a low ambient glow flowing from recessed papillon pendent lights.

"I hope you don't mind the low light. My eyes are acutely sensitive after being Mako-infused for as long as I have."

"Whoa," Zack gasped, spinning in a slow circle to take it all in. A thought… "_ECHO_!"

And his voice bounced off the fifteen foot high ceilings! Zack gaped in awe, throwing his arms wide.

"This is amazing! Look at all this space!"

Sephiroth watched Zack's eyes bulge out of his sockets with a sort of beguiled amusement; like a boy in a puppy store.

"Hey, you know what you should do?" Zack said. "You should have a party!..."

Sephiroth shot Zack a flat look.

"…Yeah, yeah, a company potluck! You can put up like one of those folding tables over here, and have like, a soda fountain over there. I can bring my projector and we can watch the crew video on your back wall! It would be so awesome!"

"_We'll see."_

Zack continued his slow sweep of Sephiroth's living quarters. An organic energy churned in a deliberate pattern through his veins like cool streams. He noted brush-ink calligraphy motes hanging in strategic locations from the ceiling, and Kanji scrolls along the walls. His eyes fell on a rectangular sand pit, whirling spirals drawn like cycloning winds with a ceremonial rake.

"You're a Zen Master?" Zack gasped. Sephiroth folded his arms at the dutiful spiraling sand.

"…The cat didn't work out."

Zack smiled. The vastness of the loft was like the auditorium President Shinra gave them their annual yawning "keep up the good work" speech. There was truly nothing in here!

"You're not big on materialism are you?" Zack noted.

"One cannot take away that which one does not already possess…and it's a good deterrent against bed bugs."

Zack chuckled again, but was floored when he saw his bed. A raised platform frame contained one of those ridiculously expensive micropore temperfoam mattresses, diligently made with plain black covers against the windowed wall—every night the city slept with him. A copy of _Musashi_ laid open upside-down on the pillow to save the page.

"…It hurts my back," said Sephiroth. "I don't use it every night."

Zack cocked his head. "How do you sleep?"

"Well, I don't really, I sort of sit cross-legged and levitate with my sword over my lap."

Zack cracked a wide smile at the sarcasm dripping from Sephiroth's words. Young guys in the unit joked about him being this sacramental demigod who ate small children, communed with the cosmos, and didn't sleep. To hear Sephiroth poke fun at their stories made Zack shake his head.

"…Wow, you're just a _guy_, like me."

The slightest smirk escaped Sephiroth's velveteen façade.

"I wish I was as cool as you all made me out to be."

Zack studied him in sardonic awe. This guy. He descended from Heaven and killed a couple angels on his way down simply because he didn't like the rules, and now he was here, working for the power company, just another hustler trying to scrape out a place on this miserable hunk of rock. If Zack asked him why, the man would shrug and reply because he can.

"You seem taken aback," Sephiroth noted.

"I'm blown away! How the heck did you manage to hustle all this?"

"Shinra has a Sephiroth Clause in their company policy."

"Which is?"

He shrugged. "I get whatever I want."

"Oh what! They do spoil you!"

"I don't make the rules."

"Yeah, you just break them!"

Sephiroth stood there in a cool composure and Zack saw something he could relate to; a rebel and a hellraiser, causing trouble for fun. No wonder he had Angeal's lectures memorized. Here was a guy who was actively trying to get fired, going so far as to disregard the uniform, reveling in the pure and simple truth that he could get away with murder while overhead couldn't even go to the bathroom without logging their time.

In a corner, Zack noticed the last piece of formal furniture like a chaos-shaped void. A bean bag chair sat flopped with a plumb iPod tangled in headphones on the seat, seeming so _not-Sephiroth_. Notebooks and gel-pens scattered on the floor next to a Macroeconomics textbook.

"…Hers," Sephiroth smirked, and Zack lit up in revelation. They lived together, and he took care of her.

"Is she a student?" Zack asked.

"Online for now. She's actually pretty close to her Associates Degree."

"Cool. What's she studying?"

And Sephiroth shot him a look like rolled eyes. _Hell if I know._

Zack laughed, throwing his hands in a wide sweep around the room.

"So what do you do with all this…space?"

"Angeal and I used to spar in here all the time. The high ceilings are so I can swing my sword in a full arc without scraping the paint, which I failed to do there…and there…_and there_…"

"You guys really were best friends, weren't you?"

"He was my best friend, but I doubt I was his."

"What makes you think that?"

"Let's put it this way. Genesis and I were both at Angeal's wedding. Guess which one of us was his best man?"

"…Wow…and some friend he turned out to be."

Sephiroth gazed at Zack with wise eyes that knew all and saw all, but wished they hadn't.

"When the metal hits the meat, you find out who your real friends are."

Sephiroth—the bane of absolute truth—his words settled on Zack's soul like toadstools taking root in a flower bed.

The big man turned from Zack to stand before the massive wall of glass, casting a lulling calm over them. Zack saw him like that, a harrowing portent of wisdom, a seeping sense of realism exuding from his aura that was divinely destructive and allover atheistic.

He went to stand beside him in a slow stride, gazing out at the flickering code-lights of the cityscape with an air of solemn fortitude.

"What were his last words?" Sephiroth asked.

Zack let his eyes fall along with his heart, allowing the words to flow in their own time from the core of his being.

"Protect your honor, always. It's the one thing you have that no one can ever take away."

"I am pained, because I cannot agree with his final sentiment…There is nothing you possess in this life that cannot be taken away. They can take everything away from you."

He bore into Zack for a swift moment, and went back to staring out over the cityscape.

"Those weren't his only words," said Zack. "He talked about you. He called you his youngest brother."

Sephiroth stopped, his gaze pulled magnetically to Zack. Awe behind his irises, worlds swirling within his soul laid bare. But he caught himself, and returned to the farscape of the skyline.

"…My apologies. You have no idea what that means to me."

But Zack gazed at the big man no longer afraid.

"…I think I do."

In resounding silence, a solemn similitude bound the two men in a commonality. Sephiroth turned with conviction, striding to the center of his loft.

"…He taught you the Way of Five Rings, correct?"

"Yeah." Zack followed, not quite sure what was happening.

"It takes many years to fully grasp their understanding. To attain this wisdom is to _cross at a fjord. _This occurs often in a man's lifetime. It means to set sail even though your friends have stayed in harbor, and, if the wind changes within a few miles of your destination, to row across the remaining distance without sail."

Sephiroth aligned himself into Summoner's stance, feet together, two fingers upright at his chest.

Zack froze, unable to think, unable to comprehend in the drugging lull of warm calm that seemed unbroken by his phase.

"Concentrate…" Sephiroth ordered, and Zack snapped into defensive caster's stance, tensing for a long time before the big man caught him. "Your eyes, they shift, what are you looking at?"

"…Trying to see where the first attack will come from."

"It will come out of nowhere, from where you least expect it, it will always catch you off-guard. You're unconsciously taking in too much sensory information, that's why you can't seem to calm down."

Zack gasped, everything in his being clicking into place. Sephiroth drew an octagon in the air with his fingers for Zack's eyes to follow.

"Many teachers will teach their students to fix their eyes on points: the enemy's sword, the face or hands, the feet and so on. In single-combat you must not fix the eyes on details. Your mind will become bewildered, and victory will elude you. When you have mastered the Way, you will see the weight of your enemy's spirit. In Strategy, fixing the eyes means gazing at a man's heart."

He stood there in the dim glow like a living statue, boring into the eyes of the young SOLDIER who bore back into his. An unstoppable force met an immovable object.

"If I can see his heart, can he see mine?" Zack asked.

"If he has mastered Strategy, then yes."

"Then he'll see my sword coming straight at his face before he can swallow his own spit. My heart is in my sword, it's the only way I can lift the thing. I'll embrace my dreams, and when we cross blades, I _will_ defend my honor."

"_Overconfidence will destroy you…_" he scolded, and Zack flinched back.

"...Every time you take a sword in your hand, your goal should be to kill the enemy by any means necessary. Whenever you strike the enemy's sword, you must continue your attack in that same motion. This is key. But, if your only aim is simply to strike your opponent's sword, you'll never actually hit him."

And Sephiroth assumed the staggered fighter's stance, holding his palm up in front of him…an invitation. Zack knew this exercise, he'd done it with Angeal to train in balance. He lined himself up in fighter's stance with Sephiroth, placing his hand palm-to-palm with his.

Sephiroth guided their hands in flowing circular movements, and Zack followed, never breaking contact. A tingling energy siphoned through their skin, chasing through their connection like foxtails as their arms moved in snaking "S" figures. Sephiroth swept their hands in a wide arc, and Zack knew the angle and trajectory without thinking, his palm held light resistance in a culminating calm.

Sephiroth reached over his shoulder, and Zack followed in turn. Swords now, they drew them in a slow sweep. Blade to blade they continued the exercise in a delicate ringing of cured metal.

A crescent moon reflected beam lines off their silver blades, carousing restless in the neon hue of Mako eyes. A flay of Sephiroth's wrist and a magnetic energy singed in freeflowing fractal fraylight, his daikatana eclipsing the sheer enormity of the Buster Sword it had connected with many times before. The swords sang a soft hum as if they remembered each other. _Hello old friend._

Step in a circle now, Zack followed knowing every move his body should emulate. A cranial circuit showed the world in electric pulses that could be manipulated, moved, maneuvered, and Zack felt all of it swirling in a vortex of electricity, a line that traced the inside of his nerve endings in tendrils of limelight. A flick, the daikatana broke contact for quick dings.

_Tap, tap._

Zack jolted to reconnect their swords, awareness serrated into zooming focus. The long blade flared up trying to break contact, but Zack's sword followed it, not letting it go. An aggressive whip knocked Zack's sword up, and it was on…

They rushed each other like dragons. The daikatana whipped like a scorpion tail, searing in flitting swipes against Zack's monumental bash-slices. Zack saw the arc of their swords as a fine femoral line. He followed it around to meet slash on slash.

Sephiroth slip-parried Zack's jab with small swirls of his sword tip, whisking it out of the way as if made of water. Now Zack saw why he fought with a daikatana, the longer his sword was, the less work he had to do with it. A natural southpaw, he saw that Sephiroth had the capacity to fight dirty if he wanted to. After all, the man had never lost a fight. Ooh, Angeal would have hated that.

Zack felt the rigid systemic timing of their blade hits, regimented and disciplined. Akin to when Angeal had been training him in pacing, they hit in tune to a beat, a rhythmic, controlled flow.

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5…tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

They established an understood parallel dimension, dark fire exuding from a shared sacramental awareness, swords singing like the angelic alto of aural gothic choirs.

An up-swipe bashed away a thrust-jab as they lashed for each other in cacophonic crashes. Sephiroth whipped around deflecting Zack's blow, who followed the momentum into an overhead slash that crossed with his blade. Their piercing eyes met for a moment, and Sephiroth put both hands on his hilt for a split second, for Zack.

A dynamic twist-flare and Zack's sword charged into a—

"_Stop_," Sephiroth ordered. Zack froze mid-slash.

Sephiroth walked around a paused Zack, inspecting, examining. He decided Zack's arm was hyperextended, and moved it back into place. He hit the hilt of his daikatana off Zack's elbow to straighten it out. Then, emotionless, he returned his sword crossed-blade against Zack's.

"_Go_."

—Into a flying sweeping arc-slash.

A fulminating flare up, the whirl of a daikatana caught the edge of moonbeams serrating at Zack. He felt it, he didn't need a wind-up, it was right there. A hyperslash of light and Zack crossed twenty feet of open space in a nanosecond, sending Sephiroth's sword flying against the glass wall.

He gasped. That just happened.

The world seemed to pause as the big man walked with that flowing stride over to his wall. Sephiroth picked up his sword in a calm sweep, the fight was over. He returned with a look in his eyes that Zack had seen on someone else once…long ago.

"Not even Angeal could land that on me."

Zack's eyes shot up in a whirl of emotion as the big man laid a hand on the young SOLDIER's shoulder.

"He was very proud of you, Zack."

The darkness invaded him, snatching the air from his lungs in a choking tightness. Zack almost lost it, standing there before this man who had been his best friend's _best friend_.

Without a word, Zack turned for the door blinking away tears. He spun the sword in a hyperphonic twirl, latching it onto his back like a part of himself.

Outside in the hall, he breathed like a tremendous weight had lifted from his shoulders, a heavy burden sliding from his being to float away into the atmosphere. With a sense of finality, Zack walked back to SOLDIER wing, feeling like he'd finally laid an old friend to rest.

.

[Received Black Belt]


	25. Chapter 25 - Ancient One

Outside HQ, Zack answered his phone.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm kinda busy right now. Can I call you back?"

"Oh…No it's okay, you don't have to."

The slight disappointment in her voice.

"I have a few minutes. What's up?"

"Well…I just had an idea for something we could do together. You know, like a fun project."

"What is it?"

"Um, I was thinking. You know how the flowers sell so well off the table? Well maybe they'd sell better if they were in their own little display. So, I want to build a flower wagon."

Zack threw a blank stare out into nowhere.

"A flower wagon…"

"We hardly get to spend time together anymore since you're so busy. I thought it would be something fun we could do together."

"You want me…to build you…a _flower wagon._"

"…You think it's stupid don't you? You're right, I'm sorry, maybe it's a bad idea."

"No, it's a great idea."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, I'll get the stuff to build it and come over after work."

"I can't wait to see you."

"You too. I'll see you then."

Zack wore the same flat stare as he hung up.

He walked back up into SOLDIER wing with a million things on his mind, and found Kunsel in the break room.

"Kunsel, you know where I can find a power-drill? And like every other tool ever made?"

Kunsel rubbed the back of his head.

"Uh, I can check the supply cache for you. What do you need them for?"

"I just need them."

"You building a house, bro?"

"No…" Zack lowered his voice. "I'm building a flower wagon."

"A what?"

"A _flower wagon_," he talked through his teeth.

"What was that, Zack? I can't hear you."

"I'M BUILDING A FLOWER WAGON!"

Everyone in the break room looked up. He groaned and started off for the supply cache.

"Zack, just call an escort!" someone yelled after him. It was lost on deaf ears.

Zack got on the train with three things slung over his back—lumber boards, a bag of tools, and a Buster Sword—staring at the ceiling to avoid the wayward glances that stared at _him_. A subway advertisement for some travel agency hung along the border.

_DO YOU HATE YOUR LIFE? _

Zack got off in Sector 5 as some construction workers got on. _Ouch. _He headed to the church pursing his lips when Aerith met him inside. He gave her a quick hug, dropped all the stuff and got to work.

He held up the lined-paper instructions sideways and upside down, turning it over and over.

"At least it's easier than IKEA," Aerith joked. He didn't laugh.

Zack tacked boards together just so they connected in some way. By the end, he'd built a four-dimensional Hypercube, but it wasn't a flower wagon…take it all apart, start over. He hammered nails into everything except the other board, while Aerith followed behind with the powerdrill, making sure they stayed in place for him. He had all the tools scattered on the ground, and not a single clue what each of them did, his mind picturing battle-bots as he messed with allen wrenches. Three hours in and he was cursing up a storm laced with such blatant innuendo that it even made Aerith blush.

"God, it's stuck…It won't go in…Spread already…Turn over damn you…Screw it…Mother F—"

"Hey, it's okay. Let's take a break," Aerith suggested, but he _threw _his hammer across the floor.

"My thoughts exactly…" He got up swinging his arms, running his hands over his face like a POW. He muttered to himself in frustration. "…It feels so stuffy here...You can't see the sky…Wouldn't you normally miss seeing the sky if you lived under a plate...Guess I'm not normal."

"What are you talking about Zack?"

"I'm talking about taking a break!"

He turned on her in a whirlwind, and everything froze. She stopped breathing…she didn't recognize him.

"…Are you okay?"

His brow furrowed in brazen viciousness, eyes stone and fiery.

"Do I look okay?"

"No. No, you look really mad, and I'm kinda scared. Could you please just tell me what you're feeling? We can talk about anything."

"Yeah, I know, _this is a safe place _too."

"What?"

He took a deep breath, looking around at everything and nothing, but really looking somewhere deep within. He paced, his eyes falling on the flowing winged statue that stood against the wall like a silent observer. They remained fixed there as his whole body seemed to come to a resolution.

"…I don't think I want to do this anymore."

Aerith fell on the pew, talking fast now, tunnel vision staring up at her boyfriend.

"…Whatever you want Zack. What do you want?"

"Don't do that."

"Please talk to me." The tears were on their way, too late. Panic streaked her cheeks in salted dew as she reached out to him. She _had _to bring this down. "Okay, this was a really, _really_ stupid idea, I'm so sorry. Can we please forget about it?"

"Don't make this any harder than it is."

"Please tell me why! Please Zack, please, please!"

He was pacing, he was fuming, slow strides that stopped in one place and started again.

"I have my reasons, it would take all night to list them, and usually if you have more than a few it's a good sign that it's time to go."

"No!" She leapt up to him, to throw her arms around him and never let him go…but he backed away. Her tears dripped like rainfall, threatening to drown them both. He'd sail away, floating far from her to turbulent seas where she couldn't follow. Pale and rigid from shock, she pleaded up at him with dying iris eyes. "Please tell me one, just one."

His devil gaze trained on the ground. He struggled to string together words.

"It's…You don't _do_ anything, you're just _here_, and you're always going to be _here. _You don't have any plans, there's nothing to look forward to, nothing to _build_."

The scattered pieces of an unbuilt wagon laid like a broken erector set on the ground.

"...Don't leave me, Zack. Don't go." Her whisper, it traveled to him across worlds, soothing him, swaddling him, serenading his soul. Her breath traveled all the way to his ear. He felt it sweep his lobe like warm fleece, weaving in and out of pierced holes for silver earrings. But his heart was barred to hers, sealed off in walls of concrete and blast-steel, sheltering him from the monumental earthquake shaking his body to its core. With tears in his own eyes that refused to fall, head thrown skyward to the hole in her roof, he whispered up to the long way down.

"…I can't do this anymore."

"Wait…" she reached for his hand, but her fingers met shadow…he was already gone.

"I can't."

"Wait!"

She fell on her knees, fingers flowing across the ground. Her cries tore through every step he took down that aisle, calling him back, wrenching his heart from his body in delicate, girlish sobs. His whole body yelled at him like another persona, _go to her, you idiot, you love her! _But he only fled faster, walking away, walking out. In the cold vastness of empty choir lofts and chipped stained glass angels, she screamed.

He ran, taking the stairs two at a time, rushing in a mad sprint toward the train station. Pumping his arms like they'd never known life, he forced his body onward as his lungs that burned like sandpaper, muscles that cramped like saw blades, the sword on his back seeming so much heavier than it had been before. He threw himself into the train car as the doors closed, falling onto the bench seat, completely alone in the empty car. Despite the agony welling in his chest like razor blades, he couldn't help but feel the utter overarching wave of one singular emotion as he let his head fall against the shatterproof window…relief.

He slept like a baby that night.

He woke up the next morning from the most restful sleep of his life and turned his phone on: 36 missed calls, 75 new texts. Good lord, there was a novel in his message app.

_*DELETE ALL*_

As the days turned into a week, the calls came less frequently, and as the week turned into two, stopped altogether. Winter Break for Uni students was happening at the Goblin Bar. Zack had skipped last year and the year before. This time, when his friends invited him along, he went.

The bar was packed with co-eds in skimpy outfits sipping girly drinks. The night was young, but already things were starting to get wild. But as soon as the SOLDIER's walked in, it was on!

Zack struck up a conversation with a blonde bombshell who had the body of a model.

"I'm in my last semester at MU."

"Cool. What are you studying?"

"I'm a law student *_hiccup*_."

Oh well, nobody's perfect. The next girl was a bit of an airhead as she went on like the place was so dirty.

"I'm studying to be a social worker, but I don't want to work with like ghetto kids and homeless people."

The next girl looked the same as all the rest. They were all starting to blend together.

"Pre-med," she sneezed on him…

"Geologist. Did you know the planet is over 6,000 years old?"

He threw her a flat stare…

"Psychologist. Tell me about your childhood."

Next…

"I'm studying to be a botanist."

Zack pricked up with genuine interest.

"Really? My favorite flower is the _iris arcanthus. _What's yours?"

"Uhh…"

He was already up and walking away.

He ended up sitting by himself at the bar, drinking a seltzer water with an olive in it…the bartender understood. One more girl flowed up to him, pearl-white bunny ears sticking up to the ceiling.

"Hey SOLDIER, how about buying me a drink?" She wasn't even buzzed, and she was beautiful, but Zack pursed his lips.

"Aren't I a little young for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I see you out by the boardwalk talking to guys _a lot _older than you."

She cocked a defensive eyebrow, _excuse me_.

"I don't see what's so wrong with it. I love older men, they take care of me."

A revelation. Zack walked out of the bar.

Standing on the street with a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair, he looked out over the city he called home. He saw the system splayed out in gridlines like a bizarre form of urban art, the mural of methodology interlaced to form the organic consciousness of the world's greatest metropolis.

Zack beheld the future of his city. He saw Loveless Avenue in decay, the posh coffee shops of the Fountain District replaced with video stores and sex shops. He had a name for the prostitutes, now he knew why…

Girls with no fathers.

The children of Midgar drifted in a chemical haze of half-sleep, maybe Zack was drifting too. Zack had never met his real father, but if he did, he'd probably kill him. Children need fathers, it didn't even have to be a man, he'd heard of a few families like that, just a strong arm to hold a steady course and ward off the blatant reality of what promiscuity in women _and_ men actually was: a sick form of self-mutilation.

He drifted into the alley behind the bar, his sword weighing him down as if it sought to drive him into the ground. He couldn't call her, he didn't _deserve_ her, and a part of him somewhere thought that she'd always known that too. He kicked the trashcan over in a moment of rage and clutched his head against the wall, choking and rocking to hold back terrible tears.

_Good job, man. Real good job. _

But something caught his eye. At the other end, someone else leaned against the same wall gazing out into nowhere. He looked about Zack's age, with dark hair pulled back in a pony-tail and crazy bangs that went all over the place. This alley seemed like the place people went to when they'd really messed up. The guy turned to walk away, and Zack saw something familiar slung over his back—a Buster Sword.

"Hey!" he ran after him. "Hey wait!"

But when Zack came out onto the street, there was no one there. A ghastly mist hovered above the ground like a disease, steaming from manhole vents in a hallucinogenic urban haze. A tug on his back pocket…

"HAH!" he shot around as the little Wutai thief darted away. Zack pulled his wallet out of his pocket, clipped to a zip-line on his pants. "Learned my lesson, Squirrel."

She stared at him for a long moment, and pulled his Bahamut Fury Materia from behind her back.

"NO!" he dropped to his knees. "That's a Summon! That's _very dangerous_! Here, I have a fully-leveled Hell-Thundaga, max-stats, the whole nine. I'll trade you right now."

"You want it back? Apologize to Aerith!" she glared at him through peeled eyes.

Zack sighed, standing back up.

"Look Squirrel, sometimes grownups start relationships, and sometimes they end them. Aerith will be fine."

"She tried to kill herself, you jerk!"

He froze, the dead weight of her words socking him straight in the crotch. She threw him a disgusted scoff and ran off into the night.

It took a long time for Zack to get his bearings, standing in the steam like the world was floating away. He walked down a street with no name, wandering in aimless circles until he reached the park, where he found a bench. Now he took out his phone, this time with conviction.

He dialed her number. She answered on the first ring.

"Zack? Zack please don't hang up!"

"I'm not…" He could feel her shaking on the line. "Aerith, are you okay?"

A long pause, a tense reply.

"…No." The sobs came in waves, sweeping their thorns across his heart. He still hated hearing her cry. "Could I come see you? I can come to you, I figured out how to use the trains, I'll come above the Plate."

"No, stay where you are, I'm coming to you, okay?" She stopped sobbing like she couldn't believe it. "You stay put, I'll see you soon."

He hung up and started for the train station.

When he got to the church, the whole structure seemed depressed. A grey pallor clung to the façade and when he went in, there was no flapping of doves' wings. The stained glass angels seemed like old paintings someone had dug out of an attic and tacked up on the wall.

He saw her in the flowerbed, curled with her knees against her chest. She stood like a lone leaf, and he saw the brevity of his emotional callousness. She'd lost weight, _good god, _she never had any weight on her! In a baggy boys' hoodie and jean shorts she approached him like she was afraid he was going to hit her. That absolutely killed him. When they stood a few feet apart, she held up a ball of Materia.

"This is probably yours, I found it in the flowerbed." Her voice was so soft, hoarse from sobbing. She handed it to him carefully, and Zack recognized his Bahamut Fury Materia. However, the color was off, it had changed from fire gold to sea green. "Is it okay? I hope I didn't break it."

"No, seems fine," he examined it, and fused it back into his arm. She hurried back to her bag on the front pew, keeping her eyes on him.

"I want to show you something." She brought a folded letter on printed business paper for him to read. He opened it with a curious expression.

__Congratulations! You've been accepted to the Midgar University Botany Program. The Administration welcomes you and urges you to pick your classes early. Student Housing will be provided as per your full scholarship__

His mouth hung open. When he looked back at her, she was a different girl.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"…Because I was afraid you'd make me go."

He read the letter to the bottom, it was legit.

"…I didn't hear anything for a long time, then it came in the mail a few days after you left."

"Aerith, I never left. We were just having a fight. A few more days and I would have come crawling. And to prove to you that I was never gone, here…" He started to reach into his pocket, and her eyes flew wide. Reflex, she wasn't quite sure what it was but either way she wasn't sure if she was ready. "You don't have to say yes, I still have a few days to get a refund…"

_Oh god, _her heart stopped beating…

He pulled out two tickets to Loveless and showed her the purchase date. _Last week. _

She fell into his arms in choking sobs. With loving lips caressing her face, he whispered into her ear.

"You have my heart now, Aerith. I'll always come back. But please, be gentle, I've been through Hell."

A light that had died rekindled in the old church, seeping through the hole in the roof as he scooped her up. He carried her to the flowerbed, hands sweeping hair out of her face. He tried to push the sleeve of her sweater up—he wanted to see—but she clammed up, not letting him.

"Aerith…" He bore into her with a serious gaze. She shook her head. "…Where?"

She pointed in a quick motion to her chest, and Zack moved to unzip her hoodie, but she curled up in a tiny ball.

"Aerith, I'm not trying to take advantage of you, I would never ask if this were anything else, but I need to know if I have to take you to the hospital above the Plate. I know you don't want to go, but I don't want to lose you."

"They can't do anything anyway. My body's different."

And Zack stopped.

"It's that thing, isn't it? That thing you don't want me to know…" She held herself so tight like she'd fall apart, and Zack's anger left him. "Aerith, I've been with you for almost two years now…I think I know already."

She shuddered as he eased her sweater open, pushing the rim down over her shoulders. With the careful, deliberate movements of a male nurse, he parted her blouse to expose two supple breasts. But he wasn't looking at those…

…He was looking at the glowing quicksilver gouge over her heart.

Now the tears came, great welling sobs that left her in wracking tremors. She cried out an explanation to Zack.

"The woman who was my mother died trying to get me here. My mom rescued me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Zack's mouth hung open as he gazed at a wonder no one had laid eyes upon in over 2000 years. She cried into herself, angelic and frail, emanating an eclipsing glow from the luster of a silver aura.

"You're probably the last one...And you chose _me._"

The realization was like growing up at last. These were beautiful flowers, but the healing properties came from Aerith.

He helped her collect herself, buttoning her shirt back up without brushing her skin. Something caught his eye from the wall by the plumb sapling, and he went over to see a wooden wagon fully-assembled.

"You built it!" he gasped, and she bit her lip. "Gosh, that's what I love about you. You _do _things, you have a beautiful mind in that pretty head!"

But he looked back at the wagon, cocking his eyebrow at the chalk scribbles along the sides and dripping paint cans underneath it.

"I was trying to paint flowers on it," she said, "but I can't seem to get it right. I'll probably just paint it red."

"Naw, naw, gimme this…" Zack knelt down, grabbed a small brush and got to work.

"_You can draw?!" _Aerith exclaimed.

"Yeah, I did my own decals on my dirtbike back home. I told you."

"No you didn't."

He paused, a puzzled look crossing his face.

"…Then why so surprised?"

She shrugged.

"…I guess I never thought of you that way."

He let out a frustrated sigh.

"Does everyone see me as some big dumb SOLDIER-dude? Gosh, it's like I'm a half-developed videogame character or something."

She watched him concentrate while painting, smoke steaming from his ears like it always did when Zack was rubbing brain cells together. With one paintbrush in his mouth, another in his hand, and another behind his ear, he peered at the wagon like he saw something more than just wood.

"Have you always been like this?" she asked.

He put the brush down for a moment, reminiscing back to earlier days.

"Well, when I was in school, I had a lot of trouble paying attention and I didn't do very well. But when I'd play games or draw, it was like I could zone out and focus. Really helped me calm down."

40 minutes later, he stood back with his hands splayed out to present.

"There, you like it?"

"Ummm..." Aerith cocked an eyebrow.

"Aw what? Why not?"

"No, I like it a lot, really…it's just, well, there's orange flames on the sides and skulls in the middle of the flowers."

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"_Arrgh_, you're right, I'll fix it."

"No, don't, I want it like that! It's you."

She stopped his hand, holding it in hers, while a sheepish grin worked its way across his face.

"…Guess my idea to quit SOLDIER and become a carpenter is off the table?"

She pat him on the shoulder with an empathetic smile, and he slumped halfway to the ground.

"No, my dreams!" he cried. "There they go!"

"Hurry! Catch them before they get away!"

"Okay…"

An evil look in his eyes…_she ran_.

He chased her around the church, jumping over pews to cut her off as she called for _her dog_ to help her. The thing snoozed like a fat cat in the rafters. He finally caught her at the flowerbed picking her up like he was going to eat her as she screamed bloody murder for all the Slums to hear. _Oops_.

When he let her down, they just stood with their hands in each other's at the front of the aisle. Once their heart rates slowed down and the giggles let up, the moonlamps streaming over her glowing features made his thought process freeze. Here they were, gazing into each other's eyes, holding hands in a church before the break in the floorboards that was now home to bushels of flowers. His smile faded with resounding seriousness radiating from his core, staring at Aerith as a realization hit home.

There was an altar here once.

His phone went off with the ringtone he'd been using for the past couple weeks and forgot to change.

_MY FRIEND'S GOT A GIRLFRIEND AND HE HATES THAT—_

"Shoot! Shoot! Hello?"

.

[Received Carbuncle Materia]


	26. Chapter 26 - Loveless

New Year's Eve was billeted as a _religious_ holiday for SOLDIER.

Zack strutted out of HQ decked in Armani Exchange, a black V-neck and resin-coated jeans screaming that he was wearing money. He caught his reflection in the train window, his Skull Candy headphones belted his theme song for the night.

_I'M SEXY AND I KNOW IT…_

He got up to Aerith's door like he was picking up his prom date. She hurried out to meet him in…_a pink dress?!_

"My mother made it for me," she said. _She would. _It looked like a pink nightmare!

"You don't like it…" she guessed from his expression. "Oh shoot, I knew it, let me hurry and see if I can find something else—"

"Aerith, you look beautiful, but it so happens I got paid tonight..."

A deep breath at the train platform, Zack and Aerith held hands and boarded the Express Shuttle for the Plate. She fidgeted around in her seat as he played with the end of her braid.

"Oh no, your hair tie came out."

"Here give it to me, I can put it back in."

"Oh no, it broke!"

"It's okay, I can tie it back together."

"Oh no, it broke again…and again…and again!"

He threw the tiny pieces over his shoulder. She threw him a flat stare.

"You know, if you want me to let my hair down, you can just say so."

"I would _never _do that to you."

She shot him a peering smile and fanned her hair out in this really cool wave, her flower beret accentuating the angle over her porcelain face. Zack stared starstruck for a long time.

"There's the Aerith I love."

The train came through a tunnel, and Zack pointed for her to look out the window. Aerith gasped as she beheld the breathtaking majesty of the sparkling Midgar City skyline. With two hands pressed against the window like a kid, she gazed with an open mouth at the glittering pyramidal cityscape spanning like a chromium castle out of some fantastic dream. The sky was a whirling canvas of stars blending into the flickering lights of glass high-rises, reflecting in the awe of her eyes. The first time she saw the sky was the last time she'd ever be afraid.

Zack took her to the posh fashion districts of Sector 3, an art and cultural hub known to locals as _SoHo_. She went into Uniqlo wearing a handmade cotton _what, _she came out in a cropped-cardigan with the sleeves pushed up over a skin-tight blouse and cashmere scarf, black leggings with a belt that screamed _watch out _and those sheepskin boots with the faux-fur lining. Zack made her turn around a couple times, but on the third time she shot him a suspicious look, and he grinned.

Zack gave the manager a $5 gil handshake and quiet instructions to burn that dress.

Hitting the theater for their showing of Loveless, Zack was taken aback to find an entourage of _Paparazzi_!

"Whoa, check it out!" He led Aerith onto the red carpet before the sponsor-checkered backdrop. Cameras snapped flash photos as he struck a pose. "_Daang_, I'm a celebrity!"

Aerith hid under Zack's arm while someone with a press pass from some e-zine called _Gawker_ waved to get her attention.

"Aerith! Look over here sweetheart, what's your favorite movie?"

Zack laughed as News outlets caught up to him with a microphone.

"So Zack, what are your expectations for the play?"

"Uh I just hope the ending doesn't suck."

Aerith couldn't help but wince. That was on _live TV. _

A little kid in a blue coat and pointy hat ran smack into Zack's leg.

"'scuse me, sorry, bye!"

*_Zoom_*

"Hey kid, you dropped your ticket!" Zack picked up the stub, he ran back for it.

"Thank you, sorry, bye!"

*_Zoom_*

Zack cocked an eyebrow and shrugged.

Box-seats, Zack didn't mess around. The curtains rose and a lone female flower nymph stood out on the stage. Zack knew the first lines, _everyone _knew the first lines. He cringed, preparing to sit through them yet again until…

She started singing…

_Ohh! The first lines were meant to be a song! _

The flower maiden serenaded the Goddess, mourning her lost lover. She knew no rest without him. Oh no, Zack had no idea what he was in for…

A tableau of romantic tragedy unfolded in an operatic narrative. Loveless weaved a tale of the Warriors of Light, questing to save the Crystal from encroaching Chaos. A coronation of chrysanthemums crowned a princess, a king was overthrown, a deity was cast down into oblivion, all projected in an eloquent mournful song that made Zack fall in love. He realized something very sobering and validating, Genesis had never actually _seen _the play! He was a poser, a liar, an eloquent flourish and nothing more. A weight flew from Zack's chest at loving lines.

_If you go off to die, then take us too,  
to face all things with you; but if your past  
still lets you put your hope in arms, which now  
you have put on, then first protect this house._

Zack sat on the edge of his seat as emotions were roused in him to go fight a war. It didn't matter which war, a war worth fighting. Some of the things Angeal taught him played out before his eyes in verse, and Zack realized that no, he didn't get it from _a pacifist movement_, that wasn't _all it was_. Angeal had taught Zack things that warriors have passed down to each other since time immemorial. He felt himself welling up inside.

But oh shoot! No! He couldn't cry! He'd bet Kunsel $100 gil that he wouldn't cry! _Hold it in, man, hold it in…_He lost it.

"_WAAAAAAAAHHHH_!"

Holding hands and fawning all over each other as they left the theatre, Zack told her he was taking her to see _another show_.

He took her to the bridge where many other people had already gathered in eager anticipation. A prismatic lightshow danced preemptive from aqueous gel-light beam spots, flaying in neo-optic phantasms of colors and shapes like acrylics in the air. People held up cellphones, a sea of hands lay lit up with globes of light. Then…

Explosions, shooting to the sky, Aerith screamed.

She fell against Zack's chest as bombs ravaged the atmosphere. Exploding amaranth careened in flashing meteorites hailing the dawn of the apocalypse, the black void opening up to suck her in.

As the stratosphere tore itself asunder in blood-splatters of crimson and neon, Zack laughed into her ear.

"You don't like it?"

"No! I want to run away!"

He pulled her shaking out to arm's length, a soft smile and that fiery gleam of evil in his eyes.

"…Then let's run."

He took her hand and ran with her away from the bridge, away from the exploding calamity in the sky. Hand-in-hand they dashed like a couple of kids running from the cops, chasing the edge of forever, flying toward a massive gilded-gold statue of seated Valkyries around an enormous clock tower. Zack had her hop on his back, and with her arms around his neck he started free-climbing it. _Show off_.

She began feeding off his evil energy, a mad streak of girl-power zipping through her limbs. She _climbed over _his back, stepping on his shoulder like he was some sort of foothold—what are boyfriends for after all?

But her foot slipped midway up, and he caught her with a hand _right above her thigh. _She shot him a wry glare, and he shrugged with a huge grin. _Boyfriends_, when they weren't running around being immature and cute they were being annoying. A smart smile, eyes that did terrible things to him, and she kept climbing.

They neared the top of the Valkyrie's head where Zack hopped over to help her up. They stood overlooking the vast entirety of the city, watching the next wave of rockets explode against the night.

She saw all of her favorite flowers flown in fire, poppies and snapdragons and carnations splayed in liquid gold ink against a midnight-blue veldt. Flaring crossettes and dahlias, the azure tint of blue bells. She never knew flowers could grow in the sky.

Zack watched her stare transfixed aloft in a magnetic state of hypnosis. A gleam of mischief in his eyes, and in a flash like a glittering mortar, he picked her up—all 105lbs of her—holding her on his big shoulder. A gasp like vertigo, and she could touch the sky.

The lullatone of streaming fountains flittering like fallen leaves dazzled just for her, spiraling in a metric brocade of chlorate and planetary rings. She reached her hand up to touch the voyage of tourbillion stars. She was among them now, Zack saw it in her eyes, once you came here and saw it you could never go back.

The explosions ceased as massive numbers projected onto the Shinra Building in a stellar light-show countdown back from 20.

19…18…17…

He let her slide off his shoulder with the slightness of a falling flower, and they stood there locked in a soul-bearing stare. Her botanical irises gazed into tides of lapis lazuli, recalling the day they'd first met in the drab little park in the Slums. He'd changed so much, _she'd _changed so much. They'd been through a bloody war together, now here, on top of the world…they were still standing.

He shot her his little half-smile, she shot the same smile right back. They were made for each other.

10…9…8…

Memories of standing shoulder to shoulder on the riverbed played as they felt the pull, drawing closer as he'd stood before her on the stoop of her mother's house, mouth parted slightly to received her.

7…6…5…

The waft of wildflowers, the smell of camphor lip balm enflaming his nostrils.

3…2…1…

Their lips met, and it was fireworks.

The world danced for them in fiery cataclysm, exploding the night in flaming celestial strobes. Cheers below eclipsed the night for the lone two lovers standing above and beyond, rapturing them to virgin worlds undiscovered, an aerial auric ascension of the soul.

He picked her up, kissing her, crushing her, clutching her to him as she hugged him for dear life. Everything he'd been through—everything every SOLDIER, infantryman, and warrior had been through since the dawn of time was for this—the uplifting feeling of his girl in his arms.

He put her down though, letting go of her with one arm, and she saw that hand reach for his pocket…slow, nervous. He clasped his fist around something, trembling, she felt him shaking. She held her breath. And then…

His phone rang.

_AARRGG!_

"WHAT KUNSEL!?"

"Zack-Attack! Where you at! You know the party don't start til you walk in!"

"I'm on my way, jeez."

"Well hurry up man, Swifty brought his turntables!"

"WHAT? No Kunsel! No turntables! No Swifty, KUNSELLL!"

*_Click*_

Zack threw the phone in his pocket and grabbed Aerith by the arm.

"C'mon we've gotta get over there fast, this is going to get ugly."

.

[Received Goddess Heart Key]


	27. Chapter 27 - Reverie

One thing was certain, you didn't invite the kids of _SOLDIER _to a _potluck_!

Zack and Aerith ran to the Shinra HQ building—so this is where Zack worked.

He could feel Swifty bass-testing his subwoofers from the elevator. They got out on Sephiroth's floor, rushing through his open door to see Zack's worse fears all horrifically realized…

His bed had been _moved _somehow into his _closet,_ and they'd thrown pallets over Sephiroth's Zen Garden to set up the turntables. Swifty was DJ Swifty spinning a beautiful ascending bass-line with some autotuned guy singing about wanting everything tonight. Kids were breakdancing on the floor, Kunsel was leading the conga line, and Luxiere had broken into Zack's room swiping his projector so they could play DDR against the back wall—all dressed in a myriad of belts and zippered attire like they'd run naked through a Renaissance Faire and a Hot Topic.

Sephiroth stood leaning in a corner with his arms crossed. Zack ran over to him.

"I'm SOO SORRY! I can make them tone it down."

"Why? Do they look like they're not having fun?"

Zack stopped, nearly choking. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Sephiroth cocked an eyebrow at Zack like _he _was the weird one.

He waved him off, and Zack's jaw hit the ground. In a flash, he swept Aerith up hauling her over to his friends.

"Hey guys, this is my girlfriend. Aerith, these are my friends in SOLDIER."

Everyone's mouths hung open, standing up straight and shuffling in place like it had gotten really hot in there. Toes _were _stepped on.

There were technically no girls allowed in SOLDIER wing, but they weren't technically _in _SOLDIER wing. So guys brought their girlfriends, and their girlfriends brought _their _friends. One guy came in wheeling a dolly in a Shipping &amp; Receiving Department jumpsuit.

"Soda fountain's here!"

He showed off two kegs of PBR with the word _"Root" _sharpied next to the word "_Beer." _Everyone threw their hands up.

The social mingling and dancing mixed with myopic music might as well have made this the best loft party in the whole city! Shy little Aerith came out of her shell fast as she fell in with the other girls, chatting and laughing at their stupid boyfriends who were busy making idiots of themselves with lampshades over their heads. No one was sure where the lampshades came from, but they came with a few beach balls and Lazard's old spin-chair along with a blow-up sex-doll with his face on it. Zack watched her glow like a firefly as she made friends, already planning shopping trips and lunch dates above the Plate. Girls-night-out was apparently going on next weekend _without him_.

Down the hall, someone with blonde hair turned the corner and stopped timid in place.

He sported a black slant-zip glove-jacket over an In Flames tshirt, and skin-tight knee-high Tripp pants with belts and zippers going everywhere and nowhere. He already had the combat infantry boots, and he'd finally gotten his hair to stay down! No one could rock eyeliner like Cloud could, a synth-noir side-profile that Genesis only wished he could emulate. Carrying himself like a post-metal martyr, he took a deep breath and strolled down the hall to Sephiroth's loft.

He poked his head through the door and went in, not sure if he was even welcome here. Zack and his friends pointed him out with hoots and hollers like the man of the hour had just arrived! Guess he was invited after all. Zack threw an arm around his head, ruffling his diligently styled hair back into spikes that speared through the ceiling. Cloud shrugged and went with it, deciding he liked who he was.

Zack got him a beer and promptly dragged him over to where the girls hung out. There, Zack messed up…he introduced him to _his _girlfriend first.

"Cloud, this is Aerith, my girlfriend. Aerith, this is my best flank-man, remember the kid I told you about? Girls, meet Cloud! He's gonna be in SOLDIER soon, so get him while he's still _available_!"

The girls swarmed Cloud, but his entranced eyes were locked straight ahead at a beautiful shy stallion with iris eyes that looked away. The flowers in her hair were the flowers that swooned behind him as he stared straight through all the girls…to her.

_Uh-oh. _

Sephiroth remained in the corner with his arms crossed, watching as still as a statue while young people indulged themselves. He didn't need to smile, his eyes did it for him.

As the night waned on and everyone took full advantage of the _soda fountain_, Zack watched all his friends come out of their shells. Cloud turned away downing another plastic cup as Zack bounced over to him with a wide smile.

"Dude, I'm doing it."

Cloud blinked. "That's great!...What are you doing?"

"I'm DOING it!" He bounced up and down like a kid, and they both looked over at Aerith. Cloud shot Zack a wide-eyed gaze of awe.

"You're drunk!"

"I know!"

He wrapped Cloud in a hug and pulled him along into the party.

Aerith meanwhile stood at the edge of the floor when she caught the gaze of a young man from across the room, dark-haired with riot bangs, tempting her with ocean eyes. The allure of his chiseled features, a youthful angelic threw her a smart smile, and her heart skipped whole series of beats.

He took her breath with him as he walked past her, a leering Casanova. The other girls burst into a tight circle of secretive giggles as they watched him leave. But Zack caught their little club meeting and bopped over.

"Hey, secrets don't keep friends!" he peered, and Aerith rolled her eyes.

"Gosh, some guy just tried to put the moves on me."

"Who!? I'll mess him up!" Zack stood up all puffed-out at the chest and red in the face.

"I don't know, he had a pony tail, he's gone now though." But Zack bolted for the door. "Zack!"

He popped his head out into the hallway. No one. The heck? Who in SOLDIER had a pony-tail? He went back in and found Luxiere chatting up Aerith! Zack raced over to throw an arm around her and insert himself smack into their conversation. He was working up a sweat running all this defense!

The music went quiet and everyone simmered down to watch the Crew Video on Zack's projector against the back wall. Guys made obscene shadow-puppets in the viewfinder as the video loaded.

"Down in front, dillweeds!"

The movie played all the best botched missions and messed up training runs caught on the live-feeds. Luxiere had the hookups, he knew a guy in Networking.

Zack and his squad made up of all his friends crouched in the cockpit of a Paragon Attack-Chopper, awaiting the orders to jump.

_"Operators are ready for insertion." _

Silence…Seriousness…Nope.

They all _burst out laughing _in the chopper, falling all over themselves and onto the pilot. The bird whipped into a tailspin, sending everyone hurling out to get smashed by the train, which was hilarious seeing as in real life he fell 18 inches off a platform.

The chopper went down in a fiery blaze of glory, the simulation field shorted out, and five idiot SOLDIER's were left laughing uncontrollably on the ground. The training room tech threw his headset across the room.

"_Great, now I have to write up a report explaining how an entire squad died laughing."_

The SOLDIER's in Sephiroth's loft laughed so hard they cried.

The live-feeds caught a SOLDIER's first mission ever, some rookie in his helmet. The kid dropped his phone in a blog where a Flan globbed up and ate it. He drew his sword and another globbed up and ate that one! The side of the mountain toppled down on both of them while he still held his hands up helpless.

"Hah! What idiot lost their phone on their first mission?" Zack laughed, sweating as all eyes trained on him.

They hit solid gold as Sephiroth squared off against a green dragon. He'd done this so many times he could make a career out of it. Unfortunately it turned out to be the week the training room was being remodeled, and he hadn't memorized the new floor-plan yet.

He flared his daikatana to shoot across the ground in a blinding sinle-slash…right into a newly erected wall! The impact shook the building as he fell to the ground out cold, and the wall fell on top of him. Everyone cheered like they'd witnessed the impossible, while Sephiroth ever so subtly hid his face in his palm.

Zack meanwhile caught sight of something in the lower corner no one else was looking for, the swiftest flash of lilac hair.

_Aw what? But SHE gets a demonstration! _

The bread and butter of the whole compilation came up when Zack broke a _real _sword in the training room.

"Zack, you hit it off the ground!" They laughed as he flailed around in the AR Helmet. Zack just chuckled with a shrug.

"Guess I must have."

He'd already told Sephiroth they had a VR sim of him. His reply had been that the techs designed it completely unrealistic. Even _he _couldn't beat that thing. They were all in his fan club, so he thought that had something to do with the fact that it was permanently stuck on God-mode.

The image of a hulking SOLDIER 1st Class appeared on screen as Zack ripped off his AR Helmet, and everyone shut the hell up. The communal breath was sucked from everyone in attendance, while Zack lurched forward in his seat. He wanted to reach for the projection, to touch the light that his hand slid through. The image of the monumental hero held a broken sword hilt to his young student, all the brashness of fiery youth in the kid's eyes, speaking words that Zack mouthed silently to himself.

"_If you want to be 1st, you need to have Honor…and dreams." _

The video ended, the projection throwing black void onto the back wall. Zack sat staring at it like a gateway into another world had closed, shunning him forever.

It was Kunsel, with a lampshade still on his head, who jumped up on a chair with his beer held high.

"A toast!...To our fallen mates! He was a *_hiccup_* guy who doesn't afraid of anything! He taught us the legacy of totalitarianism in a tundra! The reigning champion of hotdog eating! Undefeated…sorry Sephiroth. Brethren we are, brethren we will remain, until the day where we blow up in car accident, and I now pronounce you man and wife. Here's to them, wherever they may be, and the hope that they are now fondling the hottest angel chicks ever! HOORAH!"

At that everyone jumped up cheering! A surge of energy beat off the chests of every SOLDIER. Even Zack cocked a smile, wicking moisture from his eye. The man they cheered for would have liked that. With renewed vigor, the music started up again and everyone commenced partying.

But after a few minutes, the music lowered again and everyone looked up confused. Black suits appeared in the doorway.

"OH WHAT THE HELL!" someone called as Tseng and his cohorts stared hard at the party-goers.

"We received reports of underage drinking on premises."

Cloud stood in their line of sight with a beer in his hand, trying to put it behind his back and having difficulty not spilling it. Shoot.

It was in the moment of tense silence that Zack saw _her_, the little spitfire Turk, looming next to Reno and Rude with a sad expression.

They tried not to look at each other, but she couldn't help it, meeting his gaze with eyes that spoke worlds in their wake. His smug scoff, he peered at her with the urge to call her something that started with the first letter of her name. But Zack didn't need to say anything. Instead, he draped his arm over Aerith with a hard stare.

_That's right, WE'RE STILL TOGETHER!_

Sephiroth walked in a cool stride over to his door.

"Sorry gentleman, we're at capacity."

He slid it closed, locking them out, and cheers echoed so loud that the other side of the city could hear them celebrating. Someone flicked the lights off, and everyone went wild! The glow sticks and neon necklaces came out. Strobe lights flickered, throwing colored candy beams on everyone and everything. Swifty started spinning a slowly-building Aggrotech rift, people clapped and fist-pumped trying to goad its intensity, increasing the catalytic energy, calling out to build the anticipation.

"Do it Swifty!"

He threw his hand in the air, the music ceased, and all that could be heard was the fast strumming of electronic bells, until…

He dropped the bass, and _everyone danced_! Everyone…except for a tall man in a black coat leaning in the corner with his arms crossed, reveling in the energy and spirit of youth with a reminiscing glint. He'd made this possible for them.

Aerith ducked out of the crowd, backing against the wall to catch her breath. She'd never had so much fun in her life, even in the darkness her smile glowed like a new star. She wasn't the only one who hung to the side to escape the madness…

Cloud leaned against the same wall, far enough away so that he could see her. But she couldn't see him, his dark clothes melding him into the backdrop like a shadow. He watched her smiling from the corner of his eye, lighting his body on fire. Slumped back against the wall like he was going to die, he cried inside at the arc of her lips, the line of her mouth like a dandelion stem, streams of soft hair like cattails that wisped toward him. He would live like a monk in a monastery if only it would allow him to gaze upon her from afar.

This wasn't fair. Was he the only one who saw the sick irony of this whole situation? She was too young for Zack.

Her boyfriend found her, pressing against her in a playful embrace. The darkness shielded their bodies in black mist, perfect for getting away with making out against the back wall at a party. Cloud turned away, losing himself in the aural rift that flowed from Swifty's speakers.

_IF OUR LOVE IS TRAGEDY, WHY ARE YOU MY REMEDY?_

As the night wound down and the beer ran out, kids hung on each other in drunken groups on their way out the door. Sephiroth extended his hand to thank everyone who had come, and they all slapped him five with one guy even giving him a hug. He took it cock-eyed like a champion.

Zack said goodnight to _everyone _in SOLDIER, making the crucial mistake of leaving Aerith alone for a few minutes once again. His friends groaned on each other's shoulders with Kunsel ready to break down and cry.

"Guyyyzzz, _she's a_ _virgin_!"

They all salivated in pain like they'd had a communal ulcer. Zack complained about her enough that they knew everything. Dares were thrown around, steps were taken and taken back. Someone told someone else to go distract him, and it was argued over who it would be to go do it. In the midst of all this whining, Cloud strode through them in aggressive shoulder bumps, and their expressions turned to horror.

_"Oh my god he's drunk someone grab him!"_

He walked right up to her with a determined look in his eye. She saw him coming, and threw a polite grin. He stood a little too close to her, swaying from the liquor.

"It was nice meeting you."

She pursed her lips and looked away. _Awkward. _

Zack turned around almost choking. He'd expected to run the gambit with his friends all night but _this _was unexpected. He shot Cloud a cock-eyed glare, unsure whether to be proud or angry.

_Hey cheater! Eyes on your own paper! _

The rest of Zack's friends came to the rescue, adhering to Rule #13 of the Bro-Code: _Bros don't allow other bros to do something stupid with another bro's girlfriend whilst intoxicated. _They wrapped an arm around Cloud's neck, dragging him and _like fifteen other girls _out the door.

"C'mon Little Muscles, the party's not over yet!"

Zack lit up laughing as his friends left hell-bent on corrupting their youngest. If they had their way, he'd wake up with two girls tomorrow. Oh the morality!

Zack and Aerith stayed to help Sephiroth clean up, and get his bed out of his closet. That task actually took them longer than they thought it would, seeing as they couldn't figure out how they got it in there in the first place. Leave it to SOLDIER to figure out how to fit a square peg in a round hole. He saw them to the door with aluminum foil wrapped leftovers and a bright smile from Aerith.

"Thank you for having us over," she beamed with an extended hand. He took it in that cordial fashion with the subtlest bow.

"Miss, the pleasure was mine. You are welcome anytime." He glanced at Zack standing tall next to her. "You've got a good man here."

She smiled up at him like she knew, and Zack cocked a grin thanking him for the compliment. But he looked around in the hallway. Something seemed off. Someone had been absent from the party.

"Where's…?"

"…Later," the big man nodded.

"Ah, not one for crowds eh?"

Sephiroth smiled and shook his head. They shared a look between them as Zack stood there next to his girl, talking to Sephiroth about _his_. Maybe they really weren't so different after all.

They said their goodnights and Zack and Aeirth walked down the hall hand-in-hand. She looked up at him with bright eyes.

"He's really nice."

.

[Received Remedy]


	28. Chapter 28 - Sacrament

A day came that everyone hoped in their hearts would never come. Zack went down to the church with a solemn rouse. Aerith smiled as he walked in with those echoing SOLDIER waffle-stompers that she'd met him in, and he smiled back, genuine, full, lighting him up from the inside. But his glow diminished, fading to a forced grin.

"I have something to tell you," he said in all seriousness, and her face went stark pale. He looked her in the eye and said one thing.

"I'm deploying."

Her stomach lurched, her heart fell on the floor. The words that she'd been dreading to hear for two years didn't seem to register in her mind.

"Don't go Zack."

"I have to go."

"No you don't. You can get out of it. Somehow."

He sighed, expecting as much.

"I'm a Squad Leader. I lead others into dangerous places and lead them out alive. Most of them are kids, like the ones who come down here looking for guidance from you, I give that to the guys who serve under me. Would you have me abandon them? If I don't do this, Angeal died for nothing. I'm a SOLDIER, it's what I do."

"Oh dammit Zack! I know Angeal meant the world to you. He means the world to me too, but don't listen to him, listen to _me _now!"

But Zack shot her a knowing look with raised brows.

"Aerith, those were _your _words."

She fell into his arms in great sobs that shook her body to her core. Her angelic frailty clung to him, she choked to breathe as his lips swept her ear.

"I know this is hard, but we've talked about this."

"I had a bad dream. Please, I don't want you to go. I don't want you to _die_."

"Hush sweetheart I'm not going to die, I've run so many missions already and I've always come back. I'll always come back, remember?"

"I can't live without you. I'll die too. You've touched the lives of so many people. Everything you do is a smile. You're friends with people who have no friends. People have told me they've gone on living because of you. You're an inspiration, you have no idea how important you are to so many people. You're my hero, Zack."

"Good grief, did you rehearse that?"

"…No."

"…Well, you should really rehearse it next time. It sounded kinda rushed."

She broke down crying the most epic wailing sobs. Oh him and his jokes at the darkest times! Was he always going to be that light that pierced through darkness like he was laughing at the world? She pounded her fists off his chest like she hated him more than anything, and he swept her up, carrying her to the front pew.

Sitting with her in his lap, he cradled her like a puppy. The sniffles eased and she slid onto the pew, gathering herself up like a bundle of clothes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so scared. I thought I'd be more prepared for this."

"We both knew this was coming. I think we _both _thought we'd be more prepared."

"Where are you going?"

"…I can't tell you Aerith. It's OPSEC. BUT, I can tell you what I'll be doing—_absolutely nothing, _sitting around being bored out of my mind and hating life. There, that's my cool elite job in a nutshell. So kids, you wanna be in SOLDIER? Bring playing cards."

They chuckled and the anxious atmosphere lifted with his idiotic humor.

"I'm so scared of you dying."

"Me, die? _Come on_. I'm like the world's protagonist! And you know how it goes in videogames, the main character never dies."

"Who says you're the main character?"

_"Pfft_, who says I'm not?"

He kicked back on the pew like a cool cat, too cool for school. His head was the size of a planet, and he knew it. She rolled her eyes as he brushed his knuckles against his shirt.

_"C'man, _whatcha worried about?"

"What if something happens where you can't get home?"

"I'll get on a chocobo and fly back to you. I'm going to sail through your roof, land smack in your flower bed, sweep you off your feet and travel all over the world with you. How's that?"

She shot him a flat stare, tears welling up again.

"Chocobos don't fly."

He slumped halfway to the floor. She swooped in and brushed his bangs away like she'd crawled under a blanket to find him. An evil grin flashed in his eyes, and he pounced on her with munching sounds.

His silly play, she slapped at his arms and he mocked her in girlish finger-flicks of his own. Zack cocked a smile for her.

"Don't worry Aerith, I'll even bring you back a bunch of souvenirs. It'll be like I'm a rockstar going on tour! Besides, my best flank-man is coming with me. Together we're unstoppable, he won't let anything happen to me. You met him, he's not afraid of anything!"

"Yeah, when he's a few drinks in."

"Well no one is then."

Her beautiful eyes lit up his heart, but her laughter faded fast as the encroaching reality weaved its way back into their space.

"Look, you can't think about the bad things. This is just the first deployment. All my guys are going through this same thing with their girlfriends right now. If we can make it through this, we can make it through anything! And you'll be starting school so you won't have me around to distract you. Kunsel is going to come down here and bring you my hazard pay so you can start putting some money away for yourself."

She paused as her eyes met his in awe, like she saw a different man. As she cupped his hand on the side of her face, he bore back into her with determined eyes of steel.

"I'm going to take care of you Aerith…for the rest of my life."

She laid against his chest in silence while his eclipsing arms engulfed her like wings. Together they sat listening to the lulling hum of evening breezes sweep through the church like hallowed breath. There was no need to speak, there was nothing more to say, only time now left to be with each other.

When the moonlamps flowed their milky rays through the hole in the roof, he sat up with a heavy sigh.

"I should go."

"Don't go Zack."

"I have to."

He moved to rise, but her hand shot out to touch his chest, resting over his heart to stop him.

"Don't go…"

He paused at a certain sensual command in her voice, a sacral finality. He shifted his body to face her. Was she serious? Would she get scared and back out like she had before? He was going off to war, she had no idea how much she could hurt him by leading him on now when he was afraid.

Her nimble hand followed the line of his sword harness up to his neck and pauldrons. Around his back was a latch that undid the whole mechanism…but he couldn't do it for her. He held his breath as her fingers slid their way around him, the whole world seemed to freeze waiting for her to make a decision…

…a snap, his harness loosened.

His pauldrons slid down to his hips as he gasped, the weight of the world falling from his shoulders. Now he unfastened his belt for her, throwing the harness aside. Both her hands went to work now, sliding under the fabric of his uniform, as both of his came up to cross and slip out of a shirt pulled over his head.

He made himself breathe now, his chest expanding in nervous heaves, cold and vulnerable. Her leering mouth rendered him powerless, brushing over his sculpted tan shoulders, his iron chest chiseled from marble and metal. Everything he wanted in life he'd worked so hard for…even her. She licked the tip of a tiny nipple, and he winced a little. He didn't really like that much. Something inside her giggled at that.

But something in him turned on. He kicked his boots off, like everything in his body activating at once. He clutched her face in a flash, shoving his tongue down her throat, running his hands down her arms, and up her sides, over her breasts. He suckled her neck like it didn't matter, like he was trying to inhale her, overstimulating her as far as he could go to push her over the edge. If she was going to back out, do it now. Her agonized sigh in his ear confirmed it for him. This was happening.

_Everything slowed down. _

The flow of her fulminating energy, heaving against him in desperation gave him an out-of-body experience. Her soft sigh, luscious as apple juice dripping down his chin. His body stiffened, hers pined for him, suffocating succulence threatening to strangle them both in the calming similitude of their intimate touch.

He let his lips linger on her collar line for a long moment before standing up off the pew, eyes that were both hard and soft at the same time gazing down on her like they were bracing, like they were prepared for the worse and almost daring her. He moved to undo the top button of his fatigues, but she stopped his hand, she wanted to do it…they did it together. Letting the band of his pants slide down over his hips, he bared himself to her like a confession, showing her all he was in life. This was him, for her to have and to hold, if she'd have him.

Her eyes swept in a fascinated rift over the architecture of his figure, the formula of his dimension, his golden ratio. Like a living statue she gazed upon him in reverence as he moved for her, putting a knee up on the pew to support himself.

He loomed over her naked in darkness, that familiar sheltering force that was friend to all SOLDIER's, casting complex shadows across the floor. Sliding her hair aside, much like he did to fasten her necklace when it was brand new, he undid the clasp of her dress. The small zipper ran down the line of her back, tracing her spine with the outline of his calloused fingertips, hands that moved to the hitch of her skirt swept up her lithe legs and over her head. He lifted the thin piece of fabric that separated their skin like a universe, and all was revealed to him.

The eloquent symmetry of a brush-stroke laid in the delicate sweep of her arcing figure. Her body flowed in blending lines like watercolors, primrose pigment bleeding from her cheeks down to the thin lines of a light neck, surrounded by the somnolent auburn waves that fell like feathers down her shoulders and back. Cherry-blossom nipples over the succulent peach flesh of her breasts, the subtle accentuated curve of her stomach down to a supple navel, the patch of brown fur between her legs, a little baby fat still settled around her thighs and midsection. He took her all in, every facet of her like a precious stone, then he fixated on her most beautiful feature—her eyes.

A strong hand on her collar pushed her down, a lithe hand on his shoulder pulled him with her. They struggled around for a few minutes adjusting and trying not to hurt each other, there wasn't much space.

_Man up, Zack. You've made it work in tighter spots than this. _

Resting the bulk of his weight on his elbows, he went slow, fluid arcing presses caressing in gentle clitoral stimulation before lowering himself to enter. Her body resisted him but he held pressure, letting it know that he wasn't here to hurt, but she had no choice. When it caved letting him into her, the sensation was velvet on silk, soft fiery needle-heads nipping in a tingling seminal rush through his pelvis. For her, the shooting lines of fire sliced their way up her thighs and groin like razorblades, her loud yelping cry let him know to ease up. He was going to stop, he asked her in a sweeping whisper if he should, she shook her head _No_. Confusion, he needed to be sure, asking her again if he should keep going, and her nod through tears let him know—she wanted him.

With ginger, careful movements he worked his way in deeper, his arms walling her in under the concealing weight of his body, protecting her as he invaded her. Holding her fast against searing pain that was her rite of passage, he handled the quivering mold of her body like tearing into a present; try to unwrap the tape with care but the paper rips anyway. Her little cries echoed in cathedral acoustics to blend with his soft sighs, the canto of impassioned moans igniting a flurry of wild sensation in their cramped and cringing forms. He laid into her with slow deliberate shifts of his weight to graze in a downward grind against her slight hips, trickling beads of sweat forming on his brow like small pearls on the verge of possessing his darling. He knew how to give a girl her first time.

With the lily-pad brush of her nipples sweeping his chest, the skin of his stomach sliding against the pale contours of her womb, his hips encasing the essence of himself slipped deeper into serene warmth between her lucid thighs. She couldn't take in all of him, he was _gifted_, but her body could accept most of him pressing hard against the inner sanctuary of herself, extending the latitude of areas she hadn't even touched with her own hand.

A slip of his knee hurt her pretty badly. She screamed in pain and he almost pulled out, but her hands gripping his elbows to keep him in place forbid him, commanded him, begged him not to leave her. He stayed still without moving for a long time until her tremors eased, taking care to hold tight for as long as she needed. His memory pulled up images of A-School, and somehow in the back of his mind he thought all those plank-holds were for this—the Drill-Instructors doing them a favor—Zack held this for a whole hour once.

She went quiet, and the pain faded to crystal waters. The aphelion of lunging solar storms swept into his in vibrational spasms, compressing the shape of his masculinity, tightening past the extent of strained muscle groups as if she were about to be torn asunder. She was taken high and far, away from the comforting clasp of his body locked in impassioned ecstasy against hers. A veil of white light emancipated her from the prison of her flesh, shooting laurel lines to wrap around the entwining mass of his hard body in luminous cycles of soft auralescence.

He felt himself being taken, pulled, transported through many levels of hypersimultude to a higher plane of mental cognizance. A rushing vertigo assaulted his sensory perception, the sensation of tumbling over and under and everywhere plummeted him from heights of auric ascension. Far down, like he was falling from the sky…

He found himself standing on Elysian fields, an arylide savannah cast in flowing golden grass. He wore his SOLDIER uniform with his Buster Sword slung to his back like a constant companion. Knowing that he was somehow outside of the corporeal world in some parallel celestial plane, he was comforted to know that this was his self-concept—his identity.

Ahead of him—the distance a man could run in a dozen seconds—stood Aerith, but something was wrong…

She was encased in crystal.

He saw her erected like an emerald monument, pale skin amid blue cyanotic lips and hair frozen in stark white tendrils splayed like an alluvial fan. Encapsulated in velochasmic glass, she waited, a slow secluding slumber that flowed on to forgetfulness and death.

The world above him went dark, black fractus sweeping in a turbulent mistral anticyclone to snuff out the soft sun. A colossal draconic daemon materialized in a novic shadow, a towering netherbeast of dark deliverance and cold ethereal malice eclipsing the absolute Zenith, nightmare fuel for the rest of Zack's life. No known force of nature had birthed that phantasmal terror, it didn't belong in this world. It loomed a foreboding tempest of aural hate commanding the neo-vortex of caustic clouds, its left claw trained aloft against the azure sky, holding up a meteor.

It looked down on Zack with iridescent eyes that gleamed red like the surface of planets; the lone warrior standing strong against the oncoming storm.

"Who are you?" Zack asked the being, and a voice like the murder of mountains spoke down on him.

_"I AM THE GOD OF THIS WORLD. SHE WHO SLEEPS IS MY GODDESS AND YOU ARE NOT THE CHOSEN ONE."_

"HEY!"

The deity's right claw descended upon the crystal. Zack ran like the winds of the world pushed him onward, racing over golden fields toward the massive dark claws that closed in a slow grasp around his beloved. With a harrowing scream of war, he drew his sword in an epic megaflash against the dark divinity, and all the world was fire.

He collapsed shaking onto Aerith in the pew, clutching her frail body to him in desperate sweeping sobs. Her warm body pressed against his trembling and sweating, crying, careening to be near his enveloping embrace. He felt her assuring presence, her nails digging into his hair, the weight of his body guarding her like a jewel, shielding her from encroaching darkness that streamed like daemons through the hole in her roof. A looming dread caroused his heart like firebrands, and for the swiftest of moments he felt the sheer utter terror of unspoken sentiment that had gripped her like a cold veil of death…

…He would never see her again.

.

[Received Maiden's Kiss]


	29. Chapter 29 - Deployment

Zack walked out of the church that morning while Aerith was still asleep. He couldn't wake her, he'd never be able to leave.

At the bottom of the stairs, a ricocheting bullet at his feet rocked him awake. He flashed his sword to block a hail of leadspray. What the hell was going on?

A robotic dozer-drone zeroed in on Zack, opening fire, but Zack was already sprinting toward it on impulse. A one-two spiral-slash knocked it back thirty feet. From behind him, another whizzing bullet hit the red eyelet, exploding the robot into pieces. He whipped around to see Tseng running up beside him. He'd broken surveillance cover and shown himself…to help Zack.

"What are these things?" Zack asked as he followed the Turk to the wreckage.

"ARMA's new automated weapons. These robots are programed to target Genesis."

"Then why'd it attack ME? I'm not a monster!"

"No idea, but I'll be bringing this up with Director Scarlet _personally_. This is dangerous."

Zack's eyes flew wide at hearing one name.

_"Fwew_, you're pretty brave."

"We're paid to be."

"Tsh, yeah, you guys are actually paid a livable wage."

"More like a _comfortable _wage."

Tseng saw the SOLDIER slump in his 1st Class uniform. The two men stood in silence as the obvious weighed on Zack's high-ranking shoulders. After all that _hooah _wore off there was only the gritty truth of what his job actually was—a dead end. Tseng holstered his weapon and spoke in an off-handed tone to Zack.

"SOLDIER is not the only department short on man-power. It looks like we're going to start hiring soon. Any Turk can tap someone for membership."

He met Zack's gaze side-long, and all that rivalry and big-brother griping dissipated like steam. It had been a long time since they'd met in Lazard's office and refused to shake hands, a burning repulsion welling in a young kid's fiery eyes. Now a young man stood next to Tseng with a look of subtle absolution, a million possibilities running across his mind.

"…What if someone already has prior commitments, people he's waiting for and has promised to help out?"

"We hire a little differently than most companies. We don't go looking for the perfect applicant, we wait for the perfect applicant to come to us…whenever he's ready."

Now Zack turned to Tseng with a dead-on look of hidden fear and awe. He wasn't sure what was going on here, if and what Tseng was offering him. The man never showed any emotion. But the answer stared him down like the barrel of a Colt pistol in Tseng's dagger-sharp eyes.

_A life. _

A glance back at the church, a comfortable life for both of them.

"Don't worry about Aerith," Tseng assured. "Protecting the subject is part of surveillance duty…and Reno's been taken off the case." Zack smirked at that. "You just worry about protecting _yourself, _and staying safe on this deployment."

He met Tseng's eyes. Zack hadn't expected that, and returned his noble gaze in full.

"Thanks."

"Good luck, Zack."

"You too, Tseng."

This time, they shook hands, and the Turk walked off to disappear back into the shadows of the church.

Zack continued to the station, but a lingering thought put a little bounce in his step, and in mischievous Zack Fair fashion, he hummed a song to himself with a cool swagger on his way through the Slums.

"_As long as I got my suit and tie, I'ma leave it all on the floor tonight…" _

Back at Headquarters, he psyched up to boldly go where no SOLDIER had gone before: into the depths of Security wing.

An unspoken truce existed between the two rival branches—you don't bother us and we won't bother you. The glorified MP's had _devious _ways of getting even, like cutting power to the barracks laundry room or leaving dead fish in vents no one even knew existed. No one wanted that mess, hence the agreement—_territory _was sacred.

The elevator opened and Zack stepped out onto their floor.

This place made the Welfare office look clean! Boot scuffed floors, overflowing trash bins, porn tacked on the walls, the smell of chewing tobacco. Poor Cloud, Zack would go nuts working here. He couldn't shake the urge to line everyone up and make them start mopping floors.

The recruits themselves were grizzled sleaze-balls. Screw company grooming policy, they mulled about like inmates on parole.

A mohawked operator in a tactical full-body harness bumped Zack's shoulder in the hall. Zack knew the only raw-dogs who'd be ballsy enough to bump into him, and the flash of the designator tab on the guy's leather BDU's confirmed it. _Sniper Corps_, Security's equivalent of SOLDIER, no one knew quite how to feel about them.

Zack kept on through the masses of glares trained on him, his boots sticking to the linoleum floor, until a Colonel approached him.

"Can I help you, _SOLDIER_?" More like _the hell are you doing here?_

"I'm looking for Cloud," Zack replied. He caught sight of him over in a corner doing squats.

"STRIFE! FRONT AND CENTER!" the Colonel yelled and Cloud came running at the sight of Zack. They smiled a hello, but the Colonel had other ideas. "Apologize to this SOLDIER!"

Cloud whirled in place. "But I—"

"I know you muddled something up Strife. Don't lie to me. Now apologize!"

Zack and Cloud blinked in unison, but Cloud had no choice. He stood at Attention before his friend.

"Sorry sir, please excuse my indiscretion."

Zack peered hard at the young recruit.

"You should be. That was an expensive sandwich…that you ate…that I didn't even get a _bite_ of."

"Sorry sir, roast beef on rye is my favorite, sir."

"It was a Rueben…idiot."

"…It was delicious…sir…"

"Colonel," Zack turned to the man who stood with a cocked-eyebrow, "requesting leave to take this rookie smart alec off your hands and teach him a lesson."

"GRANTED! Punish him for as long as you'd like."

"In that case…Cloud, we're deploying! Nibelheim. I got you a detail, wanna come?"

"YEAH!"

"Alright! Get your gear and let's go!"

Cloud and Zack sauntered out of Security wing, while everyone's jaws hit the floor at the sight of their smallest guy getting to detail with _SOLDIER_.

They got back to SOLDIER wing both relieved at the sight of clean floors, and headed straight to Briefing where two squads cajoled on Standby.

As soon as they saw Zack glowing like a lightsaber, Zack's previous night was tabloid. _They all knew_. They tackled him, picking him up, punching him on the shoulders and parading him around like a hero. _Atta boy!_

Once their Squaddie had been thoroughly congratulated, Sephiroth entered the conference room like a flowing force of warfare. He stood tall in front of the conference room to brief everyone on their missions, and they all leaned forward at attention.

"Genesis is at North Crater, amassing a clone army large enough to take on all of Shinra's forces in outright war. Squad A lead by SOLDIER 2nd Class Reks Archanan will lead an infiltration team to sabotage Hollander's cloning operation, while Squad B lead by myself and SOLDIER 1st Class Zack Fair will perform reconnaissance operations at the Nibelheim Reactor."

Everyone sat up shocked, and Zack's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Wait, shouldn't that be the other way around?" he asked. When Sephiroth said nothing, Zack got the hint. "…Squad Leader's meeting after Briefing."

Reks nodded, as did Sephiroth. Zack pulled out a pocket notepad clicking the tab of his pen up high to cue the rookies, who all took out notepads and pens in turn. Sephiroth continued.

"Squad A will be given geospacial intel of the target. Take no prisoners. Radio frequency on TAC 3, no Secret Squirrel channels. A peripheral mission is attached to the action cue; locate and assassinate Dr. Hollander."

"So are we team-reconning two bogies or are we splitting the squad? How are we calling this gunshow?"

The man who walked in to the conference room answered his question, and everyone jumped against the back wall with weapons drawn.

A Genesis clone!

Weapons trained on him, but he waved his finger and chucked a Slave Crown on the ground.

"Hollander is using Slave Crowns to control his creations. This one managed to slip his off," Sephiroth explained.

Zack's eyes whirled with his Buster Sword still drawn.

"What are you?"

"To ask me that question," the clone replied, "would be to ask ten thousand others the same."

"Is he…defused?"

"Quite tame, I assure you, but certainly not _content. _I had about as much say in this as an ant does in being stepped on. But of course, it has its advantages, such as slipping through the ranks unnoticed. But I don't work for free. I will find and assassinate Dr. Hollander…in exchange for asylum."

"I'm not taking that thing with me!" exclaimed Reks.

"You won't have to. I've acquired my own transportation." The clone twirled some motorcycle keys around his finger.

Sephiroth wrapped up his briefing.

"In summary: Squad A will run sabotage the clone stronghold in North Crater. Squad B will recon the Nibelheim reactor. This clone defector will covertly assassinate Dr. Hollander, then rendezvous with Squad A. Any questions?"

No one raised a hand, despite the fact that Zack had the longest attention span in the room, which was saying _a lot_. Zack turned around in his seat.

"Do any of the rookies need help with anything?"

"Can you look over my notes, Zack? I didn't do very good in school."

"Sure I will! In fact, all rookies see me after Briefing."

They were dismissed and the group of teenaged operators gathered around Zack with their notepads. He initialed each rookie's pad for their own protection. Cloud had excellent flowing penmanship, while one dyslexic kid's chicken scratch was so bad Zack tore his own notes out to give to him. After everyone had funneled out of the room, Zack and Reks hurried to Sephiroth for their Squaddie's meeting.

"What the hell is going on here?" Zack asked, finally able to show bewilderment now that the young troops weren't around.

"That's what I was fighting with Command about for half an hour," Sephiroth replied.

"And…?"

And the big man pinched the brim of his nose in response. Zack threw his hands in the air.

"This OPORD is an LCES nightmare. Did anyone catch the SIT-report?"

Reks had it on his phone. "It's listed as a Type 1 Incident with only two IA crews assigned, our two squads."

"They can't send 3rds to air-assault a Type 1 sleeper-cell without an IMT, how many of them are even HECM qualled?"

"Well I've got mine…if that answers your question."

"You got your trigger-points dialed in? You're going to need to turn the corner fast if the winds start changing."

"We're going to need a blockplan to blackline our way in, or else this op is going to make one hell of an AAR."

"Is there a reason they're power-loading one Squad?"

"Apparently I'm IC-ing this op," replied Sephiroth, "and you're being attached as my IC Trainee. Command cares about you _so much_ that they're using a Type 1 Incident as a requal opportunity for you."

"Well I'm qualled enough! Why don't they IC me to Squad A so they have a 1st on each lightning-mod? My gunner will leapfrog with one of Squad A's rookies and we'll put fire on the ground in a _Wag Dodge_. Go?"

_"No-go." _

_"Why not?" _Zack implored.

"I don't want to split up the 1sts. I have my reasons."

"Show and tell?"

"Personal."

_This is no time for personal reasons! _Zack griped in his head at Sephiroth, who he was pretty sure could somehow psychically hear him with how loud his thoughts were at this moment.

"Well we have to do something to even out the pay-load," Zack insisted. "Reks, you're the best operator I know, but you've got more than 40% rookies on your squad. That's a Watch-Out Situation. You're my friend and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Appreciated, and likewise. Command might be trying to save resources by slapping a TRC team together."

"It's not going to fly. They're trying to control the burn and it's going to get away from them."

"Command thinks it will fly and they don't care," Sephiroth shook his head.

"Do they want me to sandtable it for them? We'll use your Zen Garden!"

"If you can pry them out of their war room, you're more than welcome to try."

"Suicide missions weren't in the field manual."

Reks pinched his chin as if kicking around an idea he really didn't want to.

"We do have a right to refuse risk…"

"You have a better idea?" asked Sephiroth. "If not, don't expect to ever be taken seriously as an operator again."

But Zack was over it.

"Look there's still open seats in our bird right? Why don't you give me two of your rookies and we'll pull Kunsel and Luxiere out of contingency to fill their slots on your squad. They're both 2nds and I'll vouch for them."

"I'll X off on that."

"I will as well," Sephiroth added. "But…we'll need help convincing the overlords."

Sephiroth whipped out his phone, dialing a number in a quick flash.

"Come to Room 34. Wear your red heels…You know how I like it."

A few minutes later, the door flew open and a red-headed nightmare stormed through the conference room. Zack and Reks went stark pale as the bloody Valkyrie herself charged for Sephiroth with crimson scorpion-tails for hair. _Director Scarlett. _

"God damn you, Sephiroth! Don't tell me you dragged me out of an acquisitions meeting to give you a handjob against the window."

"Command is sending the 2nds and 3rds to air assault Genesis and the 1sts to stage at Nibelheim."

She blinked once. "No way in hell. That's not happening."

"I know _that _much but I don't know how. I need your help with specifics."

"You're using _my helicopters_. I'll appeal the AP on budget concerns."

"Yes and by the time the filing process goes through we'll be halfway to Nibelheim on _your helicopters." _

"They can't do that!"

"They can and they are. Will you go take off your silk panties to make Command change their minds?"

"No I will not screw you sideways! The last time we tried that, you got stuck!"

Zack and Reks cowered by the wall watching this bizarre exchange get louder and more heated. _Mommy and Daddy are fighting again. _

Zack forced a smile at his battle-buddy. "It's okay, they're friends…I think."

The two went back and forth, flinging insults like they were having the angriest make-up sex ever. Sephiroth's booming voice hurled at the voluptuous woman whom he towered over.

"Damn you Scarlett, quit being a spike-heeled power-witch and whore yourself out for our benefit!"

"Hey! Do not try to be overbearing with me! If you keep shoving your dick in my mouth I WILL use teeth!"

"Woman, how are we supposed to get anything done when you keep trying to _bite my balls off?!"_

"Mother in hell Sephiroth! Quit speaking your vague man-speak and tell me what you bloody want!"

"I want a risk reassessment! I want a new Operative Action Plan! I want it my way! And I want that handjob!"

"If you pull this off you're getting a blowjob in the back alley behind the Goblin Bar, and if you come back alive from this administrative nightmare I'm bringing my whip!"

"Deal! Now let's go!"

They stormed out of the conference room with Zack and Reks in tow like disheveled kids at divorce court.

Both squads sat outside the war room as shouts filtered through the _soundproof _espionage-resistant walls. Occasional _booms _rocked the Shinra building. An hour later, a spiked heel kicked the door down with a vengeance, and everyone shot to their feet as Director Scarlett stormed out with Sephiroth in tow.

"Squad Leaders, to me," he ordered. Zack and Reks rushed to follow the big man around a corner. "…They're not going for it."

"WHY NOT!"

"They don't think Genesis is at North Crater."

Reks _flipped_. "What are they smoking? We had a 110% positive ID by the Predator Drone! Those information systems are infallible. _I designed them_."

Sephiroth gave an angry sigh.

"Gentlemen, I know this situation is a Charlie Foxtrot, but I need you to step up. Can you do that for me?"

That admission changed everything. Zack and Reks stood straight with a nod that he returned. "Thank you. Dismissed."

They started out of the hallway.

"Zack…" Sephiroth stopped him, nodding him into a conference room. Zack followed and shut the door behind them.

Sephiroth stood like he'd been stripped of rank and bullied out of his career. He gathered himself before Zack with everything he was.

"I don't want this on my hands. If events unfold the way I think they will…I may be leaving the company…"

Zack froze. Sephiroth was dead serious, boring into Zack with eyes that held nothing back.

"…You're the first to know."

Zack knew why he'd told him this, and in his eyes the message that didn't need to be spoken rang loud and clear.

_I'm not abandoning you, but I can't stay. _

Zack nodded hard before whisking out of the conference room. He couldn't let himself absorb Sephiroth's words.

Their squads filed out to their respective helicopters parked on two different helipads, one S-70 Firehawk for B-Squad and a heavy SuperHuey for the larger A-Squad.

"Alpha-Mike-Foxtrot!" Reks called out to Zack with a wave.

"RTO!" Zack saluted back, climbing in after Sephiroth with Cloud and another SOLDIER in tow. They buckled themselves as A-Squad's chopper took off in a North/Northwest altitude, and Zack felt his phone vibrate. He flipped it open to find a company-wide email in his inbox.

.

To: —Shinra Personnel Email List—

From: Do-Not-Reply .mil

Re: Personnel Announcement 0119

Shinra would like to extend a congratulatory ovation to Sephiroth's student for being promoted to SOLDIER 1st Class.

PERSCOM

.

Zack's eyes flew wide. That they were so contrite and didn't even bother to mention her by name proved it was legit. He flashed a beaming look at Sephiroth, who leaned back in his seat smirking.

"_Sephiroth Clause," _he said, and Zack cracked a wide smile.

"Oh she better go into hiding, people will know what color panties she wears in an hour."

"She's way ahead of them…why do you think my closet is so empty?"

Zack's jaw hit the ground.

As the chopper lifted from the helipad, Zack glanced out the window to see something moving down below. The little ninja-squirrel had weaseled her way onto the tarmac. Leave it to her to be able to evade security, she could infiltrate a nuke site.

Zack waved excited before noticing something in her hand—a letter—from Aerith, no doubt. It was okay, he'd read it when he got back. She stood there like a lone tree in a field growing smaller and smaller by the second, and disappeared from his view.

He leaned back in his seat, getting comfortable as Soul Asylum played on the cockpit speakers.

_Runaway train never comin' back…_

_ ._

[Received Bulletproof Vest]


	30. Chapter 30 - Striketeam

Cloud and Zack messed with each other on the helicopter like kids on a school bus, but when they saw their SOLDIER companion slumped against the window snoring, _it was on_.

They drew on his face, pot-marking him with phallic symbols. Cloud was like that quiet kid in the back of the classroom who mouthed off to the teacher one day and made her quit her job crying, but Zack was like that boy who'd be brought home by the cops for pulling the same illegal stunt over and over again. Sure he'd get caught, but the devilish deed would still be done.

Zack squeezed all the mayo packets in between the bread slices from his sandwich. They stuck it in the webbing of their buddy's helmet and put it back on his lap, chuckling like gremlins.

Sephiroth sat with his legs crossed in reserved silence, observing the two boys romp around like puppies. He seemed to enjoy watching them play, the older instructing the younger in the art of being dastardly. Something stirred behind his eyes, deep and welling, yet illusive.

Sephiroth stared at the little blonde boy who now sat across from him in silence.

"You are Cloud Strife."

Cloud froze. _Sephiroth_ was speaking to him. His eyes shot up from under his helmet, whirling at the hero of Shinra addressing _him_.

"Um, yessir," he nodded.

"A Shinra Guard. Do you enjoy your work?"

Cloud struggled in his mind to come up with a succinct answer, but his thoughts clunked together like kitchen pans. Sephiroth implored further. "...What do you enjoy doing in your spare time off-duty, Cloud? Do you _game_ like this guy here?"

Zack smiled a big _HIIII _next to Sephiroth.

"I, uh, I read. I read a lot."

And Zack rolled his eyes.

"What do you read?" Sephiroth implored further, ignoring the bored kid next to him who shifted in his seat.

"…Anything really. Everything. Anything I can get my hands on."

"And you want to be SOLDIER…"

Cloud sunk right back into his shell, preparing for the abusive lecture he knew was coming, until the slightest grin crossed Sephiroth's eyes.

"…You should go to school first, do a few years in SOLDIER when you get out and move right into upper-management. That's the mistake your brother Zack and I made by not doing…"

Cloud gasped, his eyebrows hitting the roof of the chopper. He knew what Sephiroth had meant, that everyone in the unit was family. But something about the way he'd _said _it, so blatant and blunt, made everything inside Cloud crash together

Zack meanwhile sat like a _derp _next to Sephiroth, pointing his thumb at the big man with a queer smile. _This guy. _

"Luckily for him," Sephiroth turned to Zack with a leering gaze, "there is still time."

But Zack threw a flat stare at Sephiroth like he was yet another annoying grownup.

_"Dude, _what would _I _study?"

"Videogame design. You think Mako is the only thing Shinra holds stock in?"

"Haha hah ha heh…heh…"

Sephiroth didn't skip a beat as Zack looked away, laughter receding like a lightbulb above his head. Sephiroth saw him mulling. He'd planted the seeds. Zack hated when people did that, so he grabbed Cloud and went back to pestering their teammate.

The scenery changed in time to dense forest, the terrain becoming mountainous and jagged. Bouts of turbulence jolted the calm of what was otherwise a long and boring trip.

Sephiroth peered out the window, and his eyes flew wide.

"INCOMING!"

He threw himself over Zack as a _BOOM _rocked the cabin. The chopper whirled in a tailspin, a bash-careening impact sent Zack slamming against the roof—or was it the floor? A momentous _thud_, and he knew the chopper had hit the ground.

He felt a massive hand grab his sword harness and drag him out the door. Splayed across the ground, he looked up to see Sephiroth for a split second. But the big man dashed for the chopper wreckage and grabbed Cloud out from underneath. He pulled him over to where Zack staggered to his feet, and all three noticed the other SOLDIER hammering on the cockpit window.

_The pilot!_

Zack and Sephiroth ran to his aid, a huge swing of the Buster Sword shattering the window. The door was jammed solid, and they couldn't reach the harness that held the unconscious pilot secured in his seat.

Cloud swept past them through the window, down into the cockpit like a bobcat. He cut the straps with his combat knife, allowing Zack and Sephiroth to pull him out. The ringing of nails shooting through the engine block made Zack reach down in a flash to grab Cloud. He yanked him out with all his strength, flinging them both away from the chopper as it exploded.

They shielded themselves as chunks of metal flew past them. The pilot came to against a tree as the other SOLDIER stood over him. He threw his arms around the guy and called him his hero.

Zack ran trembling fingers through his hair as Sephiroth stood next to him bathed in the aural glow of fusel fire glare. They both came _this close_ to death.

"Thanks for pulling me out," Zack said, but Sephiroth shot him a queer look.

"I didn't pull you out."

"What?"

"I pulled Cloud out, I thought you pulled me out."

"No I…"

They exchanged a subtle glance of awe, and a cold shiver ran up their spines.

"What hit us?" asked the pilot.

"A Genesis copy. Remember Zack?" Cloud replied. But Sephiroth stared foreboding into the dense woods.

"So he's here."

The other SOLDIER walked around with his cellphone in the air. "No cell service."

While they hiked around like idiots with their phones up, Zack caught Cloud brushing ash from his fatigues. He remembered the heat of the explosion, milliseconds to spare. _Dumb luck_. He went to Cloud and brushed the soot off his shoulders for him.

"You've got stones for guts Cloud," he told him, but Cloud just gave a shy shrug.

"It was no big deal."

_"No big deal? _You're a hero, man."

"I was just doing what you and Sephiroth would have done if you guys weren't so _big_."

"Haha!" Zack clutched the barrel of Cloud's rifle over his shoulder, forgetting that it wasn't a sword hilt, _yet_.

The sound of abhorrent screaming startled everyone, agonized wailing of tortured souls set against melodic guitar riffs in a bestial death-sonata that descended into fiery doom…Cloud answered his phone.

"…H'llo?...Hold please…It's for you."

Cloud offered his flip-phone to Sephiroth, who took it with a raised eyebrow.

"…Sephiroth…" It was Command. "…Our chopper was attacked en route. We've crash-landed an unknown distance outside of our target destination."

"…We're about ten miles outside of Nibelheim," Cloud confirmed.

"…Correction. We are staging approximately ten miles outside of our target destination. We have no wounded but are in dire need of a resupply…" Muffled muttering on the other line, and Sephiroth turned in a growling rage. "You fools! _I _am in need of a resupply!..."

A terrifying realization lit up in the back of Zack's mind…Sephiroth's medicine was on that chopper. More muffled talking on the other line and Sephiroth's expression became darker.

"…Alright. You do that. You _see _about that resupply, you sorry sonsof—"

*_Click!*_

Sephiroth shut the phone with a vengeance, chucking it back to Cloud. He flowed past them all like a demonic Summon sailing in a train of feathers across the ground.

"Let's move."

With quiet reserve, they gathered themselves and followed their Team Leader and Squad Leader—though they had barely enough people to make up either a team or a squad. Half an hour of hiking in hard terrain had everyone's attention focused on the task at hand, and tensions seemed to ease. Cloud and Zack walked together beside Sephiroth.

"Hey Zack," Cloud got his attention. "Before we get to Nibelheim, I was wondering. Can you not call me by name?"

"Huh? Why?"

"I, uh, just want to lay low. You know, keep a low profile."

Zack cocked an eyebrow. "You owe somebody money?"

"…"

"Ohh, I see. Don't worry, I've got your back, Private."

"Perhaps he is simply nervous to be back," suggested Sephiroth, glancing down on Cloud with a sort of knowing gaze. "How does it feel to be home again after all this time?"

Cloud rubbed the back of his neck. This man had pulled him out of a burning chopper. It was safe to talk to him.

"Probably the same way it feels for you when you go home."

But Sephiroth gazed at the trail ahead of them. "I wouldn't know. I have no hometown."

"Where did you grow up, Sephiroth?" Zack cocked his head sideways.

"I was raised inside Shinra."

"You're like the third person I've met like that. What is there a club of you guys or something?"

"I'm not entirely certain. My mother's name was Jenova, and I never knew my father."

_"Jenova…Jenova…_Where have I heard that name before?"

"She was probably a scientist at Shinra. That may have been where you heard it. Let's hurry. I sense unrest ahead."

They picked up the pace without further conversation.

Ascending a plateau, they discerned the cusp of a lighthouse poking out of the treeline, a grey fog obscuring the little town they knew was nestled somewhere in the distance. Sephiroth split them into lightning-mods and sent the SOLDIER and the pilot to sweep counter-clockwise on the lee side of village, while he, Zack, and Cloud took the shaded side.

Sephiroth and the two boys swept in a grid-pattern, with eyes peeled for any sign of movement. Cloud headed up nearby cliff with rifle cocked and loaded, but a whistle from Zack got his attention. A sweep of a forearm like the edge of a sharp blade and two fingers pointing at two eyes let Cloud know to sharpshoot for him. _Eye in the sky. _

"You speak to him in signs," Sephiroth noted.

"He understands better. It's easier for him."

"You adapt to others instead of forcing them to adapt to you."

Zack shrugged. "It's what Angeal did for me."

A nod elicited from the big man, satisfied. They continued on with swords drawn.

A ghostly aura followed their footsteps into uneven terrain. The air smelled of mildew and dead weeds. The stench combined with an eerie quiet exuded the pallor of a natural graveyard. A commotion by a hedge made Zack and Sephiroth whip around, and blood rushed from their faces at what they saw galloping toward them…

Two gorgonopsids _fused together_ loped for them in the late stages of undeath. Zack staggered back aghast. Sephiroth's daikatana swept in a fierce arc, ending their conjoined agony. A wide-eyed sigh of relief seemed to escape both of them. Their elevated heart rates bashing in their ears confirmed…something terrible happened here.

Cloud opened fire and they leapt around. The clone insurgency was upon them. They came funneling over the rocks like ants from the forest, leaping with scimitars swinging.

Zack and Sephiroth's swords flew into motion as a hail of bullet-fire rained down all around them. Like a shield of death around the two SOLDIER's, Cloud's gunfire followed them, never once firing in front of them for fear of catching them. He knew what he was doing with that rifle.

The spearhead of the clone cell appeared, a harrowing Judge Mech with sky-high stats.

Sephiroth stopped Zack with a big hand on his chest.

"Show no emotion. Attack with complete calm. You'll pass this attitude onto your enemy. Then—you strike, ruthless, and don't stop until he's dead."

A nod from Zack, and Sephiroth let him go.

He rushed in with a blank expression, muscles loose enough to maneuver. He upslashed on the Mech's down-block, trading jabs in fluid slices like a Kendo class. The Mech went slower than any Judge Mech he'd ever fought in the past—_lulled into a false calm. _Once Zack saw that, he didn't even need a windup, he single-slashed in a vicious sheerline to bash-fell the Mech where it stood. In a flash of straylight, it went down like a crumpled skeleton splayed across the ground in a quite surprised pose. When he saw it fall like a rag-doll, Zack's austere composure went _straight out the window_.

"OH YEAH!" he jumped around with hands thrown skyward. "Did you see that?! Not a single hit-point lost! Who's your daddy! Who's your daddy!"

Sephiroth winced as Zack leapt over and over the fallen Judge Mech with a mad laughter. They would have to work on _stoicism_.

Sephiroth caught a rustle in a nearby bush, a clone was making a run for it. His daikatana stopped the clone in its tracks, but then let up, and the clone took off.

"You're just going to let him go?" Zack cocked his head.

"The important thing in Strategy is to suppress an enemy's useful actions while allowing his useless ones."

Zack saw the reasoning, he let the clone go to tell the others about what happened here. _A warning. _

The plateau they were on looked out over the gully that the village lay in. Sephiroth stood at the precipice gazing out at the grey curtain of noxious falling fog.

_"_Genesis…Why are you doing this?" he spoke as if to the wind. Zack crossed his arms next to him.

"Maybe he's not here. There've been sightings of him all over the world, it could just be more clones."

"He's here. I can tell…because this is all playing out like it did once before…"

Zack felt a looming sense of dread building in his core. "When?"

"…When I slew the False Goddess Latimeria…long before you were born."

A heavy pause ensued before Zack ran a hand over his hair.

"I don't understand all this _religion_. Goddesses, seeking gifts, it's like people are trying to buy their way into some paradise. Why can't they just, you know, treat each other good?"

_"Hmphf. _Have you seen Loveless yet?"

It was just like Sephiroth to be ambivalent and rebuff him. Zack took it in stride.

"Yeah, it was amazing."

"They found the ending you know…some time ago. Apparently it's not very good, and there is quite a controversy brewing in its wake."

"Heh, glad I got to see it before that. At least I saw it before Genesis did." Zack wasn't shy about showing that he knew Genesis was a fraud, and Sephiroth's sidelong glance confirmed it for him. "I'm having a hard time piecing it all together though. Is it really all just a bunch of pseudoreligious nonsense?"

Ooh, _pseudoreligious_, big word for Zack.

"There are many Gods and Goddesses in this world. Respect them all, while counting on help from none of them."

Sephiroth turned away, catching a glimpse of the cliff where Cloud had posted up.

"Your friend is a keen marksman," he noted as Zack trotted over.

"Oh yeah, Cloud can hit a hummingbird out of the air."

"Let us see for ourselves…"

Sephiroth held his daikatana straight up to the sky, and Zack stepped back. He wasn't sure quite how this was going to play out. Hitting the thin line of Sephiroth's daikatana would be much tighter than the airport of Zack's Buster Sword. Nothing happened for a very long time, until…

A shot fired like a thunderclap, knocking Sephiroth's sword out of his left hand. He caught it with his right. Zack's eyes flew wide as Sephiroth lowered his blade, his gaze still fixed firm on the cliff. An austere focus radiated from his being, like he was seeing a premonition.

"He's precise. He will be a greater swordmaster than both of us combined, if he can survive how Shinra has ruined him."

With a flash of silver hair, Sephiroth turned toward the town.

"Let's go. Nibelheim lies ahead, along with six infernal months that may define the rest of our lives."

.

[Received Backpack]


	31. Chapter 31 - Nibelheim

As they passed the lighthouse, great pines gave way to dirt roads and truck paths. Zack knew Cloud was a farm boy, but what kind of farm could anyone cultivate out in this jungle? It dawned on him like a big _duh_.

_A tree farm_.

So that's where he got his arms from! No one could swing a chainsaw around quite like Cloud. He'd been a volunteer firefighter in high school. Zack said when he was in high school he was reading comic books and masturbating.

The town came upon them shrouded in grey mist. Quaint Tudor-style houses lined dirt roads like a snapshot of some colonial village caught in a looping time warp—or was it they who had walked into the past? A bone-chilling quiet swept the village like behemoth claws, raw fear driving people to shutter windows and lock doors.

Zack caught a glimpse of _something_ moving out in the treeline, its black mass shrouded in a smock—no face. He blinked and it was gone.

A little girl bopped over to them in barn boots and a cowboy hat. Teenage jailbait, her black straw hair flowed like a mare's mane around a cowgirl vest and hide skirt. _HOLY GOD THOSE KNOCKERS! _They practically spilled out of her vest, which she'd left intentionally unbuttoned at the top of her neckline like a big-busted Barbie doll. There was a word for her: _asking for it_. Poor girl, developed early.

"Are you guys the SOLDIER people who've come to investigate the Chaos?" she asked them. Zack pried his eyes away from her rack.

"Uh, yeah, that's us."

"We're looking for our contact," said Sephiroth unfazed.

"That'd be me. I'm Tifa Lockheart. Nice ta meetcha!"

"_You're_ our contact?" Zack squinted. "No offense, but you're a kid."

"…And you're kind of a dick," she peered as Zack coughed.

"Uh…what can you do to help us though?"

"Nobody is a better guide than me in this town."

"But it's dangerous. We can't get a little kid involved in something like this."

"Um, excuse me, I'm 15, pretty sure I can handle myself."

"O…kay."

"Where's the sheriff?" Sephiroth asked.

"Missing. He left when all the lights went out, no law in this one horse town. But I'll take you to the Inn where you'll be stationed. Thanks _so much_ for coming to help out. Things are getting really weird around here."

Zack rubbed the back of his head as they followed her into the ghost town.

"Noooo kidding."

The layout was set in a wide circle around a steel water tower with a windmill providing sparse power to an otherwise powerless town. What was up with the reactor? Why was it not ceding energy?

The Inn was a three-story farmhouse with a pine porch and cozy overhang. Zack was about to climb the steps when a snarling tug pulled his leg. He looked down to see a scrappy fuzzy _thing _thrashing with its teeth clamped on his boot. Zack cocked an eyebrow at it, and it let go, cocking an eyebrow back.

Tifa ran over to introduce them.

"This is my dog. His name is Ruffers. He's the meanest mutt this side of the Lion's Den."

The blue healer-hyena mix cocked a wide smile at hearing his name and lolled his tongue out the side of his mouth. Zack melted!

"Aww, lookit you. Who's a mean puppy? Who's an ugly mongrel? Are you stupid? Yes you are, yes you are. Look at this thing!"

He scratched him all over until he rolled on his back kicking a leg, while Cloud shook his head.

"Congratulations Zack, you've found your cross-species twin."

Zack picked the mutt up and held him on his shoulder with a big hand like a kid.

"Hey Cl—Private, take a picture!"

Cloud took a snapshot on his phone of Zack and the dog with the same stupid smile on their faces. Then Zack snagged Cloud's phone and took a groupie pic of them all standing in front of Sephiroth before their big team leader growled like the dog.

They got their room keys and went upstairs. Cloud and Zack would be bunking together while Sephiroth took the suite next to theirs. When Zack went in to check on him, he found him staring perplexed out the window.

"Do you notice anything strange about this place?" he asked as Zack went to see what he was looking at.

"Aside from _everything_? No."

"The landscape, it's so…familiar. Why do I feel like I've been here before?"

"Probably in a nightmare." Zack tucked his hands behind his head. "Day 1: down."

"Only 179 more to go," Sephiroth added—the gosh-darn bane of absolute bloody truth. After a moment of silence, a thought resurfaced.

"Hey, um, I don't mean to be forward but…are you going to be okay? I know your stuff was on that chopper."

"Don't worry. I still have both vials for a few weeks dosage. I'll ration it to start weaning myself off."

"Is that…safe?"

"You act like this is the first time I've come off my medication in the field."

A grin put Zack at ease as he swung his arms out.

"…Guess you're right. Now, to important matters: _Food…"_

So it was that their deployment in Nibelheim began. Cloud's cell phone was the only one that worked, and also had a broken call button.

The pilot still thought the other SOLDIER had saved his life, and they became inseparable. Cloud said nothing as they cajoled off to the bar in uniform, split into their own lightning-mod during patrol, and had gay sex or whatever it was they did with their downtime.

The Chaos was a brooding dark mist that brought macabre monsters wrong in every abominable sense of horror. Every now and then, they'd catch a glimpse of _it. _A black shape like an upright man with no face trailed their footsteps, sending the hairs on the back of their necks shooting to the sky. Tifa told him about it when Zack asked.

"The Medicine Man tells a story about the _Skinwalker. _He comes from Shinra Manor to steal the body of a passerby and take his shape. They say he haunts the mansion because the Shinra family line is cursed."

But when Zack asked Cloud about it, the kid scoffed.

"Skinwalker stories are a load of bull—"

"CLOUD THERE IT IS!"

"WHERE?"

"Haha!"

A massive mutated king behemoth took them for a run one day on patrol. Cloud went in to confirm the kill when Zack yanked him back like he'd yanked him out of the helicopter.

"Watch out! That thing's not dead!"

When it shot its eyes open the metal ring of a daikatana closed them again. They headed back into town with Zack cupping a guiding hand on the back of Cloud's neck.

"Use brings about wear, tear and rust…so I usually just hit with the blunt side."

Sephiroth hid a mottled surprise—he'd heard that phrase before. He saw the two boys walking side by side, the older guiding the younger on his own way up the trail.

"It is a shame to die with a weapon yet undrawn…That's a _real _waste."

"Tsh, so that's why I better focus on _not dying_ then!"

Sephiroth laughed.

But they never saw another Genesis clone, as if they'd vanished into thin air.

Tifa came along with Zack and Cloud when they split off into their lightning-module, as their guide, and when the three of them were together it was fun times and wild rides. On the plateau overlooking the town, Zack pulled a boulder the size of a pumpkin out of the ground and dropped it into Cloud's arms.

"This rock is your passage into manhood, Private! Embrace your inner man, as well as your outer one!"

Cloud cocked an eyebrow. "With a rock?"

"Throw it! Hurl it! Let it sail! Against the sky! Let it fly!"

"Why?"

_"For honor_!"

Zack bore into him with wild eyes, and something powerful and primordial in Cloud lit up. He heaved it with the flash of meteors in his eyes, and they watched it crash and roll all the way down the mountain. Together, they jumped around in celebration and Zack threw his arms around him, taking him leaping for sheer pride.

Tifa watched this bizarre manhood ritual go down with a queer look. Sitting slumped on a log in her plaid school uniform skirt, she remembered what her father had told her about men; that women evolved from dragons, and men evolved from _monkeys_.

"Boys are so stupid," she scoffed.

_"Nuh-uh! _Girls are so stupid!" Zack jumped in front of her. Oh man, he hadn't had this argument in years! She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Boys are useless, never send a man to do a woman's job. You can't rely on a _man_ to take care of you, so I've been practicing my fighting moves."

"Oh yeah? Here, hit my hand."

"Your delicate hands? No way."

"C'man, you're not the first girl I've taught how to throw a punch."

"I would, but I'd enjoy making you cry too much. My trainer says I'm getting really good."

"Really? Who's your trainer?"

"Some guy named Gracie. He's not from around here."

They chatted and chuckled all the way down the mountain, getting to know each other. Tifa was a freshman at some prep-school that all the kids in Nibelheim went to, and she was already the most popular girl in school. Zack could see why. He followed her around like a puppy with a tail that never stopped wagging.

"Hey, where you going?" he asked when they got to the trailhead.

"I can't hang out today. I have to go to church." Zack's eyes flew wide.

"Ah, church-girl. So uh, tell me, do you take communion by hand or by mouth?"

"Pfft, wouldn't _you _like to know."

"Just curious, I mean I take it by hand, but I don't knock people who take it by mouth. I don't see what the big deal is." The big deal was that Zack hadn't been to church since that one year he and his friends got wasted on altar wine. Tifa shot him a wry grin, a flash of mischief in her eyes.

"Well _for your information_, I'm a good girl. I take it on my knees."

_Ohhhhhh!_

She gave him a hug at the bottom of the trail and took off running into town.

"You two seem to be getting along," Cloud noticed.

"She's a cute kid. Want me to introduce you?"

"No thanks."

And so they slipped into a routine like this, with downtime for themselves in the late afternoons and early evenings. Sephiroth would sit on the porch of the Inn with his arms crossed watching Cloud try to teach Zack how to skateboard. Cloud had almost been sponsored by Element, grinding rails and jumping boxes like the board was glued to his feet. But as soon as Zack stepped on the board, he ended up flat on his back with the board wheel-down on his chest.

"_Eh_ maybe we oughta start you off on a longboard," Cloud suggested.

"Longboard. Long…Board? Yeah, I think I'm a _longboard _kind of guy," Zack said as he stuck his hands in his pockets and swayed his hips to and fro.

Days ticked by into weeks that never seemed to tick into months. Zack tacked off tally-marks on his pocket calendar with a big smiley flower-face on the six-month mark.

But no matter how agonizing their stint in the suck became, there was always that little air-sprite Tifa to cheer them up. She and Zack were corresponding horoscope signs, they clicked like K'nex pieces. She was always hanging on him like a whiny teenage rioter complaining about _#feminism. _

"Why can't girls post pictures of their breasts on Facebook for cancer awareness? This is so discrimination!"

"Yeah! You tell'em! You should just dump them out right now and walk around topless. #Freethenipple!"

"Jerk!" she scoffed and stormed away.

"What'd I do?"

Occasionally he was a big help though, especially in matters of _the heart_.

"_Aarrg_. Zack, can you answer this for me?" Tifa offered him her ringing phone and he flipped it open with a straight face.

"Hello…who's this?...I asked you first…Yeah I go to school with you…I'm the new guy in town…Oh you're on the football team? Well I'm on the _swim team_! You wanna go!?...That's it! Meet me under the bleachers in ten minutes! It's on!"

*_Click_*

He shut the phone with such force that she thought he was _really _going to go mess up a high schooler like the good ole' days. He flashed an evil smile, chuckling like a gremlin.

_"Sucker!_ Let's go get some ice cream!"

They chilled out on a picnic table outside the local creamery, joking and pinching each other, while an infantryman sat next to them with his helmet pulled low over his eyes.

"Your friend is _weird_," Tifa whispered in Zack's ear.

"Him? Nah, he's just quiet."

Meanwhile Cloud's ice cream melted onto his hand.

One day after patrolling with them in her cutoff black jean-shorts and Converse kicks, her phone went off in her back pocket. Zack snatched it out.

"Hey!"

"Nice phone Tifa," he noticed the color. _Twinsees!_

"Give me it!"

"Ooh, who's Jordan?"

"None of your business!"

"_Tifa and Jordan sittin' in a tree_…"

"She's a girl you lame-brain!"

"…Ooh." He liked the thought of that.

"Give me my phone!" She grabbed at him as he held it above her head.

"Wait, I wanna hear the ringtone. C'mon Tifa, let's dance." He grooved with her as she shoved him away. He started running away with it!

"Hey! Give it back!"

She chased him as he laughed like a daemon at her. He leapt up into a tree to escape her flaring fists. She _wall ran _up the trunk. That made him a little nervous, not enough to give her phone back though.

"Aw look, now _we're _sittin' in a tree. But we've got our own song, I'm gonna sing it to you…_AND IIIIIIII WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUUU!"_

"Jerk-wad!"

"Wait! Key change! _AAAAAWWWW_!"

"I'll hit you!"

"Whoa Tifa, I never knew you felt that way about me."

She launched at him and grabbed his legs to drag him down.

_"Dyahh!"_ He clawed at the branch like a cat before falling to the ground, where she pummeled him with every status ailment in every roleplaying game ever made.

"Ugggghhh, why can't I move?"

She stomped away and he caught Cloud standing far back like he _knew better_. "What are you snickering about?"

He shrugged with a smirk. "You should've given her phone back."

"Well thanks for the help!"

"What was I supposed to do?"

"You could have thrown a rock or something."

"You want me to throw a rock at a girl?"

"_Aaarrg_, just help me up already."

Cloud hauled him back to the Inn with an arm over his shoulder while the other SOLDIER rushed out to them.

"What happened?"

"He got beat up by a girl."

"NO! You're telling it wrong."

But despite the negging and flirtatious pestering, Zack was always there to offer a big shoulder to cry on.

"What's wrong?" he asked Tifa one day as she trotted up to him bawling.

"My boyfriend broke up with me!"

"AHAHAHAHA!"

"It's not funny!"

"You're right. I'm sorry. How long were you guys together?"

"It was our two-week anniversary today!"

"Oh you poor thing! Oh my god the world is ending! It's all over! Here, let me sweep you off your feet. _AND IIIIIIII WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUU!" _He swept her up like his new bride with her kicking and screaming for him to put her down. He dropped her in a water trough with her white-tshirt.

Such were their days in Nibelheim; fun at times, boring most of the time, exciting like 2% of the time, and mostly dragging on like time itself was mocking them.

_Day 42: done. _

Every evening, Sephiroth could be found sitting by his window, drinking tea from a pin-ming cup. He motioned with his hand for Zack to sit, and the younger SOLDIER 1st Class slumped down in a wood chair like he'd done _such _a hard day's work.

"Any word on getting the power back up yet?" he asked.

"None. The mechanics in this town have tried everything from splicing the wires to damming the river. I don't know why they'd dam the river, but okay. The problem seems to be coming from beyond the town."

"Why isn't the reactor syphoning power? Maybe there's something wrong up there. Has anyone checked?

"Nobody seems willing to go up there, for some reason. It's like they're terrified, some superstitious nonsense. When I ask, they shudder and shuffle away. The reactor may have been built on some sacred burial ground. I've noticed the heavily Native populace here. It seems a lot like Shinra to disregard local customs and cultures in the name of profit."

Zack stretched looking out the window.

"…I dunno. I mean, if not for the reactors people would be living like this all the time, not able to turn their lights on or play their videogames, and _that's _important. I guess it's good to bring modern technology to impoverished people, so I'm kinda glad to be a part of it for that."

But Sephiroth sipped his tea and stared at a mockingbird on the sill.

"It is times like these when the world is in turmoil and counsel is rarer than gold that I reflect…and my thoughts are drawn to Wutai's greatest warrior."

Zack had heard that title before and cocked an eyebrow. "Kisaragi?"

Sephiroth _slammed _his cup down on the table. "Not that fool Kisaragi, nor any of his other imbecilic succeeded chieftains. I am thinking of a man who was once the scourge of our company, the thorn in Shinra's side for many years…a man named Hatori Masamune."

His tone had become dark, his brow shadowed over. Zack sat up at the mention of a man he'd never heard of. Sephiroth's eyes lightened as the mockingbird flittered to and fro to a nearby branch.

"…When I met him, he was drinking tea on his veranda, painting the cherry blossom trees in bloom. He poured me a cup of my own and taught me something that I now teach you…"

He passed Zack another cup, but held onto it as he took it. He bore into his eyes with a seriousness as sharp as daikatanas.

"…Never allow yourself to be bought for a spot of tea."

.

[Received Mythril]


	32. Chapter 32 - Mother

Rooming with Zack was like summer camp in elementary school.

_"Psst_, Cloud? What do you think about aliens?"

"Goodnight Zack." Cloud turned over in his bed, which was set up motel style across from Zack's. Quiet ensued for a moment until…

"Hey Cloud, wanna hear what sound a raptor makes? _WWWRRAAAAOOOWWRR!" _

"Go to bed Zack!" Cloud chucked a pillow at him. He blocked it with a quick forearm. Silence came and Cloud could finally get to sleep.

_Bor-rring. _

So Zack cupped both hands over his mouth and blew the biggest cherry bomb in the history of the fourth grade.

Cloud was out of bed punching Zack in the shoulders as he squirmed around laughing. They toppled to the floor, wrestling and knocking things over like the backyard boxing championships were going on in their room, until…

_BOOOOOOOOMMMM!_

A _huge_ fist against Sephiroth's wall sent both boys leaping back into bed, quiet as mice for the rest of the night.

Mornings always came too early, and Zack was anything but a morning person. He shuffled in his chocobo boxers to the bathroom and threw himself flat against the door.

"_AAAARRRRGGGG _IT'S TOO EARLY! LEMME INNNNN!"

"_I'm busy!"_

"Hurry uuuuuppp!"

The toilet flushed and Cloud opened the door in striped briefs with a _Sports Illustrated: Flowergirl Edition_ in his hand. Zack blinked, pointed at Cloud's boy-shorts and laughed like a jackal.

What do you say when some guy points at your junk and laughs? Cloud stuck his nose in the air with a pomp resolve.

"_Mine's bigger_."

They brushed their teeth side by side in their underwear. They both had Native blood on their mothers' side, so they didn't have to mess around with the shaving thing. Zack took a handful of Palmade to his hair, slicking it back with one lone strand jutting out across his face like a rebel. Cloud, on the other hand, stood with a pocket hair-straightener wrestling his hair down flat.

_'Aw, I remember that,' _Zack reminisced.

After an arduous battle involving massive amounts of ICE hair-glue and tears, Cloud got all of his spikes to flatten. Zack studied him, poked one finger to his hair, and it all shot up with the sound of an umbrella popping open.

"Aww no!" Cloud moaned, and Zack chuckled.

"Wear it with pride, man! You know what I used to go through to get my hair like yours?"

"Ugh, it's annoying! I look like a texture exploded or something."

Cloud brought his face close to the mirror and gaped in utter horror. "OH NO!"

A monumental zit waved a big hello right on Cloud's forehead. Zack's eyes flew wide with glee. Puberty, _how cute_!

"Oh man! The war has started! Here lemme get it!"

"No!"

"C'mere! I've got a perfect angle."

"Ahhh, you're hurting me!"

"Let the master work! How do you think I got this face carved by angels?"

"I'm gonna be sick."

"You have the stomach of a five year old. Suck it up!"

"OWWWWWWWW."

"Hold on, almost…got it…"

"Ow, ow, ow…_whoa!"_

_"Whoa!"_

_"Whooooaaa!"_

"Aw it hit the mirror!…"

"Is it still coming out?"

"Yeah, holy cow!"

"That's so gross."

"This is fascinating."

"This should get its own nature documentary."

Aside from bro-ing out in the bathroom and hamming it up at breakfast, Cloud and Zack had a silent agreement. He'd help Zack stay organized while Zack helped Cloud develop his Situational Awareness in the field.

The lack of cell reception created the illusion of being on another planet, isolation playing mind games like a big _WTF. _Then one day after patrol, a vibration in Zack's pants made him go cross-eyed.

_Huh?_

When he realized it was that thing called a phone, he almost dropped it!

"Aerith? AERITH!"

"Zack! I finally got through!..."

"Aerith you're breaking up! Sweetheart talk to me!"

"…"

"Hello? Ohmygodno!"

The line went dead. Two minutes later he was up on the roof with a nine-iron attached to his sword, waving it in the air with Cloud manning the gearbox down below.

"How about now?" Cloud called up.

"Nope," Zack called down. Cloud fiddled with the frequency.

"Now?"

"Still no go."

From the roof of the Inn, he caught sight of Tifa coming around the back.

"Hey Tifa! Can I use your phone?"

"Yeah, it's local only, but maybe from up there you can hit the repeater and get a signal out!"

Zack slumped halfway to his boots, while Cloud shook his head.

"The things a guy does for a girl he wants, right Zack?"

Zack stared out at the mountains with a shielding hand over his eyes.

"Cloud, can you move a mountain?"

"Pfft, no. What are you smoking?"

"Someday you will learn, when there's a girl you love on the other side, the question becomes not can you move that mountain, but _how fast_ can you move that mountain."

Cloud slumped on the edge of the deck, getting lost in his thoughts. Zack hopped off the roof, landing in Spider-Man stance, and sat down next to Cloud.

"Maybe we can fix your call button," Zack suggested. Cloud rocked an A900 Blade. It had that really cool flipcam doohickey, but it didn't have the swaggy "R" in the front like the SOLDIER RAZR's! And now it was the only phone that even got half a bar.

"And risk not being able to receive calls either?" Cloud gave a curt reply.

"When did it break?"

"Months ago."

"And you haven't gotten it fixed yet?"

"I didn't have the money. Besides, who am I gonna call?"

"Um, _your mom_ maybe?" Even Zack still spoke to his mom. But when Cloud turtled up into a shoulder-slumping shell, Zack raised an eyebrow. "Don't you talk to her?"

Cloud remained silent, swinging his legs off the edge of the deck. Zack cocked a suspicious eyebrow at him.

"…_Cloud_…" he pressed him in a sing-songy voice, "does she even know where you are?"

A wince told Zack all he needed to know, and Cloud groaned as he pushed him off the porch with a big hand on the back of his neck.

"…_Come on Cloud_. Let's go see your mom."

They walked down the street Cloud grew up on, the all-too familiar town house coming upon him all-too fast. He swallowed a lump in his throat, knocked on the bent screen door, and stepped back.

"_It's open!"_ a woman's high-pitched voice called from inside. Cloud's hand shook as he let himself in with Zack in tow.

His home was a tragic drab snapshot of life half a century ago, those off-brown earthen colors and perfectly squared angles. From the kitchen, a slight blonde woman emerged with a dishrag in hand, and stopping dead. Cloud stood up straight in his Infantry uniform, while a moment of uncertain turbulence flew between them.

"Well, look who finally decided to call." She put her hands on her hips with pursed lips.

Cloud pursed his own lips with shy eyes.

"Hi Mom."

She crossed the room to put her arms around her son, wrapping him in a dry hug.

"How you doing my baby boy? How's city life treating you?"

"…Okay," Cloud cringed.

She pulled away to get a look at him.

"What have you been doing with yourself?"

"I'm an infantryman with Shinra. It's the power company that installs all the reactors."

A confused expression crossed her face.

"...But how come you work out at the reactors if you live all the way in the city?"

"I don't work at the reactors. I work at their Headquarters in Midgar City."

"Are you an electrician?"

"No, I'm an infantryman."

"But how can an infantryman work for the power company?"

"We provide security detail around restricted areas."

"…for the electricians?"

"Mom!" He ran his hands through his hair. God he forgot how dense his mother was. She caught sight of her other guest and swept over to shake his hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm his mother. I don't believe we've been introduced."

Zack stood up straight to receive her with a firm handshake.

"No problem ma'am. I'm Zack Fair, I'm Cloud's mentor in SOLDIER."

Cloud's eyes shot to Zack, dazzling in awe. He couldn't take his eyes off him, standing like a tall shining sentinel in Cloud's wake. A burning flame ignited from deep in his core, an urge to following him through the gates of Hell and fight their way back out. Something changed in Cloud forever right then and there. He would never look down again.

His mother, however, stood with an even more perplexed look on her face.

"But he's not in SOLDIER."

"Well, not yet, but he's signed up for this year's A-School and I aim to see that he gets through."

"So he's going to be in the army with you?"

"_Mom_, I'm already in the army," Cloud griped.

"But I thought you said you work for the power company?"

"I do! The power company is the army, and SOLDIER is the elite wing of the Shinra Electric Company."

"So…you're not an electrician?"

He threw his hands up in defeat.

"…Mom, I'm studying to be a teacher in the city."

"Oh that's nice. What subject?"

"…Religion."

"Well at least you're doing something with your life. Now I have to go. I have a million errands to run, but you boys help yourselves to whatever's in the fridge. It's good to have you home, Cloud."

She threw her coat on and strolled out the door, leaving them standing in the living room.

"What are you snickering at?" Cloud asked.

"She sounds just like my mom!"

After raiding the fridge of hotpockets they headed up the stairs to sacred territory: _Cloud's room_.

Inside was a teenage testament to the music industry; posters from bands with logos like a bunch of sticks papered the walls from floor to ceiling, the largest from a band called SUNN O))). His snowboard lay propped in the corner along with his Epiphone electric guitar. A twin bed with plain black covers laid flush in a corner next to a bookshelf containing everything from Voltaire to Warhammer. But the shelves, _holy cow…_

"Aw checkitout! SOLDIER action figures!" Zack grabbed an Angeal figurine and _ripped _the packaging open. Cloud watched in horror his 1st Edition Limited Release Rare-As-Balls Genesis figure was similarly torn out of its mint-condition casing. Zack bopped around like a little kid, smacking the toys together and making sound effects.

_"'I'll get you Genesis!' _Yeah Angeal, teabag him! Oh no, he'd like it! Eww!"

The Sephiroth toy was mercifully spared, but Zack cocked an eyebrow at not finding the one he was looking for.

"…Hey!"

Cloud threw his hands up with a shrug.

"I left home before they made one of you!"

Something ethereal and sacramental revealed itself in streaming rays of light. Cloud's computer sat like a heavenly shrine, the most innovative and powerful gaming device known to the mortal realm. Zack knelt down in silent reverence.

"Eight cores, a water-cooling system…"

"She's my baby," Cloud threw a smart smile.

"Wait a minute, I know why the lights don't work!" He unplugged Cloud's computer. "There, power should be back on any minute."

Cloud laughed.

They played around on the Linux-based OS Cloud had written himself. Zack said he'd been learning Linux and was pretty psyched at getting to experience it at full potential. Cloud kept the music '_he' _composed on his D-drive and Zack talked him into letting him hear it; a black-metal project he called _Summoner._

Cloud fired it up for him while Zack sat wearing the headphones with a straight face. After a moment, he looked up at Cloud with a nod.

"I'll bet you play this for all the girls."

"Oookay, enough music, check out my games."

Luckily Zack's attention was easily diverted, as Cloud had come to learn.

"Whoa! Look at these stats!"

"Eh, I've been playing League since beta."

"You know, WSAD controls are good for shooters, but on fighting games they'll get you annihilated."

"Ah, so you're a console guy."

"Tekken Tag-Tournament, undefeated." Zack cracked his knuckles and Cloud smirked.

"I've got a game for you."

They sat on the ground in front of his box-tv playing Killer Instinct on an SNES. Cloud beat the crap out of Zack's Riptor with a spandex-woman named Orchid. Zack furrowed his brow in concentration, sweating with cramping thumbs while Cloud's mini-skirt flowergirl threw Zack's velociratpor off a roof.

"OH YEAH!" Cloud threw his hands up while Zack's jaw hit the floor. He'd been_…defeated._ "That's how you kick—"

Zack jumped on Cloud, ruffling his hair so hard it would never stay down again!

Cloud's CD's were buried in a box under his bed, underneath tab-books and sketch pads of pencil and pastel flower arrangements.

"You really like flowers, don't you?" Zack commented. Cloud winced again.

They rummaged through EP's with handwritten labels. Cloud was an Anathema/Eluviete/Bathory kid, while Zack was more of a Sugar Ray/Blink182/Red Hot Chili Peppers kind of guy. They settled on a Powerman 5000 album as it was the only thing Cloud owned that Zack could stomach.

Cloud lounged on a beanbag chair, strumming his Epiphone to the songs belting out of his radio speakers, while Zack kicked back on his bed playing Cloud's Gamegear. His Buster Sword leaned in the corner with Cloud's rifle resting against it, and somehow it all seemed right. They talked about everything and nothing, their conversations veering toward where most young guys' chatter ends up:

_Girls._

"Girlfriend? _Gyahh! _Be glad you don't have one of those!" Zack griped while in the middle of a boss fight. Cloud shrugged over at Zack.

"You and your girlfriend seem to get along."

"I mean we do, but she's so sweet its annoying sometimes. I mean like, curse or something! Iaunno. It's like she wants something different and she's not going to get it from me. In the words of some philosopher named Jagger that my mentor liked to quote: You can't always get what you want."

"What does she want?"

"She wishes I were more sensitive and innocent."

Cloud's guitar string snapped. He tightened it back up as Zack bit his tongue on a hard level.

"So, um, what do you think about Tifa?" Cloud asked after he finished tuning.

"Eh…..hold on…_dammit_…okay what?"

"Nothing."

Their conversation turned where most conversations about girls inevitably lead: _Sex. _

Cloud clammed up beyond nervous, rubbing his arms and crossing his legs. Zack sat on the bed watching him struggle blushing and stuttering through guy-talk. Zack went full-on in crass dialog, not holding back about pornography preferences and masturbation methods. Cloud kept up like a trooper, trying his best to push himself past his comfort zone. God this poor kid was deprived.

"Um, well, like, there's this one video I have bookmarked for when I'm doing stuff…"

Zack shot him a flat stare.

"…You mean when you're _wackin' it_? You can say it, man."

"…Just...always seemed kinda strange to me."

"Why? Are you a virgin?"

Cloud went silent, looking up through downturned brows. Zack couldn't believe it! He put the game down and threw his hands up.

"No way! What happened to New Years?"

"I threw up and passed out on Kunsel's floor."

"HAHAH!" he pointed at his friend in his most vulnerable state. Cloud winced, expecting as much from Zack, who picked up the game where he left off. "...In that case you definitely don't want your first time to be with another virgin. That'll be a mess in more ways than one."

"I think it would bring us closer and help us bond more."

"HAH, no! Unless you want to lay there watching her cry for an hour. It's like, '_what's your favorite position, missionary_?' Oh how original."

"Is that how it is with your girlfriend?"

Zack threw his head back with a great groan.

"UGH! Don't even get me started! It's like there I am doing my thing and _here come the waterworks! _I'm all '_I can stop you know,' _and she's all '_eh-hem eh-em no you can keep going eh-hem eh-hem.' _I feel good but at the same time I feel bad, ahh I don't know what to feel!"

He leaned back in mock-frustration gazing up at the ceiling. But he went quiet, the faux-agony dissipating in a slow sift like falling sand. An elusive expression worked its way across his calm vestige, like he was thinking of something pleasant, going off all dreamy-eyed for a moment and zoning out. But he caught himself and picked up the game again.

"So yeah, don't have sex with a virgin, find a girl who knows what she's doing to flop all over on top of you."

Cloud's eyes fell to the floor as he played with his fingers in his lap.

"I don't know many."

"You'll meet them, you're a good-looking guy. I was 16 once too and even I managed to ditch it early. If I can do it you can too."

"Oh yeah, how'd you manage?"

And at _that_, Zack put the game down for good, folding his arms behind his head with a reminiscing gaze. He floated back to earlier times with a devious smile creeping across his face.

"Mrs. Clair, 9th Grade Chemistry, she taught me all about _covalent bonding_." And then he went on in graphic detail about this visceral sensationalized sexual romp that definitely did not happen.

.

[Received Wizard Bracelet]


	33. Chapter 33 - Strategy

The days grew longer and the weather hotter. Time was not their friend.

Tifa, Zack, and _Private_ lounged on a big dome jungle-gym in a little park near the edge of town, watching the sunset together. She and Zack were like _BFF's_ now, and they talked about everything!

"Why do boys like to stick their dingle in between my boobs? It's so weird!"

Hah, _dingle_, that was a new one. Kids were so cute, they weren't allowed to say sex yet so they made up their own neat little terminology for things. Zack was going to steal that one.

"It's just what some guys are into. Me personally, I like some things, and I like to stick my dingle in things I like. It's pretty straightforward."

"Gosh, men are such pigs!"

She was so freaking adorable Zack just wanted to eat her up.

Lunch break on patrol, Zack found Sephiroth leaning against a boulder smoking a Djarum Black clove cigarette. He went to stand next to him, folding his arms behind his head.

"I didn't know you smoked," Zack said. Sephiroth took a drag and stared out over the forest.

"If you knew my life story, you wouldn't blame me. Maybe I'll tell it to you someday."

"Sure," Zack shrugged.

A call from Command came in and Cloud passed his phone to Sephiroth. He listened for a few long moments without saying a word, and hung up while the other line was still talking.

Back at the Inn, Cloud and Sephiroth played Chess on the porch with Zack rooting from the sidelines.

"Why can't you jump his guy with your horse?" he asked Cloud.

"_Because_, Zack, I can't jump anything being that a) this isn't checkers and 2) my _knight_ can only move in an L-formation."

Zack scratched his head with a queer look.

"…This game is stupid."

Cloud played to his full ability against a master strategist, going for a full hour before laying down his king.

"_Very _good," Sephiroth complimented. It was the first time anyone besides his own student had lasted that long against him. Zack still shook his head.

"If you would've just swallowed your pride and jumped his _knight_, you'd have had him."

At that, Sephiroth sat Zack down in his seat across from Cloud, instructing next to him. Cloud got one hell of a kick out of watching Zack struggle, taking forever to make the first move, moving a piece and then moving it back.

"Uh-uh, you touched it, you have to move it," Sephiroth corrected. Zack fumed thinking strategy was such a stupid virtue. Despite Sephiroth's expert coaching and Cloud going easy, all of Zack's pieces ended up stacked on Cloud's side of the board within ten minutes. He ran around the board like a chicken on fire.

"You can lay down your king, you know," Cloud told him.

"Never! Death before dishonor!"

And Zack started jumping Cloud's guys in a line, cheating so hard that Sephiroth almost choked with a hand over his mouth. Cloud let him do it, giving up half his pieces willingly. It made little difference when Zack's king was finally pushed into a corner with all of Cloud's pieces boxing him in like a line of pointed halberds. Cloud shook his head.

"Congratulations good sir, you died a hero."

"Damn straight!" Zack kicked his foot up on a chair.

Sephiroth held in so much laughter he almost cried.

But there were only so many things they could do to waste time on lazy days. When all else failed, they all lounged on the porch in the scorching heat staring off into space.

Sephiroth and Cloud sat in chairs on each side of an end-table while Zack laid flat on his back with the other SOLDIER next to him, his legs swinging over the side of the deck.

"So Sephiroth, I hear this place has awesome skiing in the winter. You thinking about vacationing up here anytime soon?"

Sephiroth shot him a sidelong glare that would rip his still-beating heart from his warm body. "If I have to stay in this goddamn town _one more day_ after my deployment ends, I will straight burn it to the ground and kill everyone in it."

"Yeah? Well get in line."

"I think if anyone has dibs on that, it's me," said Cloud.

"Fight me bro," Zack spat back, getting a giggle out of the SOLDIER who lounged flat next to him. "What about you, man? What keeps you going?" Zack asked him. The guy looked over with a straight face.

"You wanna know what keeps me going? My mother back home waving my life-insurance policy."

_Eek. _Good reason enough. The guy spat a curse and went back to staring at the sky.

Tifa's scrappy mongrel snuck up to the table, grabbed Sephiroth's phone and darted away. Everyone sat up prepared to leap after it, but not before a booming yell beat them to it.

"HEY!" Sephiroth's commanding authoritarian voice stopped the dog right in his tracks. "_Put it back."_

The mutt stayed frozen for a few seconds, then slunk back with his tail between his legs to drop the phone at Sephiroth's feet. He looked up with a waiting expectation at the big man's eyes.

_"_Good," Sephiroth nodded, and the thing went to lay down at the end of the porch. Zack was impressed.

"Wow, you're pretty good with dogs Sephiroth. Did you ever have one?"

"Angeal's Malamutes loved me," he said dryly, then wiped the slobber off his phone against his pants leg. Everyone went back to lounging, while Sephiroth tried for the millionth time to get some sort of reception on his phone. He threw his hand up in frustration when it failed for the millionth-and-first time.

"_Arrggh_, I can't even get email here."

Cloud perked up at attention. He noticed something about the way Sephiroth threw his hand, finger movements interweaved in patterns that seemed almost coherent as he spoke. It was probably just a knee-jerk reaction, something he did unconsciously, how rude would it be to comment on it? But something implored Cloud, nagging in the back of his mind.

"Sephiroth?" he asked, and the big man looked over. What was the worst that could happen, he'd call him an idiot? Like he wasn't used to that. Cloud swallowed a lump in his throat and went for it, moving his hands as he spoke. "Do you speak sign-language?"

Sephiroth shut his phone. His eyes trained on Cloud like lasers, a long moment of silence passed between them. Then, without speaking, he moved his hands in fluid, coherent motions.

"…_Fluently."_

Cloud replied in his own hand movements.

_"I took it in high school. I'm no good at foreign languages. We can talk like this if you want." _

_"Thank you. I find it to be a more comfortable mode of communication."_

_"Me too…"_

Zack sat up off the deck, his jaw hit the ground and went down a few more feet. Blinking like he wasn't sure if what he was seeing was real, he saw Cloud and Sephiroth launch into a full conversation that they didn't need speech to understand, talking in sign-language without verbalizing a single word. He couldn't believe it, it was too unbelievable to be real, yet here it was staring him smack in the face like a safe had dropped on his head and an anvil had wacked him in the gut.

Sephiroth, the hero of Shinra, the bloody harbinger of every war since they had all been born…was _deaf_.

.

[Received Cait Sith's Megaphone]


	34. Ch 34- Visions of Past and Present Pt1

Zack walked into Sephiroth's room to find him sitting at the table with Cloud and scrawling notes.

"What are you kids up to?" Zack teased.

"Come join us, Zack. See for yourself," Sephiroth replied. Zack pulled up a chair backward to sit over it with his arms crossed.

"Sephiroth's helping me get ready for school," Cloud grinned, at which Zack cocked his head.

"Wait…So you're not going to be SOLDIER?"

"Oh he's going to be SOLDIER alright. Might even be our boss someday," Sephiroth replied, still writing. "But Shinra has a little-known scholarship program. Enlisted members can go through A-School and be on Reserve status until graduation."

"I'm going to study Business Management and Communications, I can train with SOLDIER on the days I'm not in class, AND they'll pay my tuition!" Cloud beamed. Zack smiled.

"Those _one weekend a month, two weeks a year _posters weren't kidding! Haha!"

"Don't laugh," Sephiroth peered, "you're next."

Zack wiped the smile off his face.

A knock at the door and the other SOLDIER poked his head in.

"Excuse me, Sir. Private Cloud? Uh, your mom's outside. She has a bunch of your clothes and wants to know what she should do with them."

_"AARRGH!" _Cloud groaned, darting off with the SOLDIER downstairs. Zack chuckled as he took Cloud's seat at the table, kicking a foot up on the other chair. Sephiroth had a smart look on his face as Zack pointed a leering finger at him.

"You…you're something else alright."

"Really? Enlighten me."

"How…Oh my God…_You're deaf_!" SOLDIER 1st Class Zack Fair, the sensitivity of a blunt axe.

Sephiroth smiled, brushing his hair behind his ear to reveal what Zack had caught a glimpse of on the train. A cochlear implant. Zack gaped in awe.

"Wow, have you always been like this?"

"Since the day I was born."

"But-but you don't talk like a deaf person!?"

"I had a very _rigorous _speech therapy program."

"No kidding, I'll bet that implant helps you out a hella ton!"

"Indeed, an invaluable tool…I've had it off this entire time."

Zack's jaw hit the ground. "Wait, but how can you—"

"Your lips, Zack. I can read them."

Zack threw a hand in front of his mouth. "How about now?"

"I can see the outline of your jaw movement and discern language."

He smothered his mouth with two hands.

_"Hwff Buff Noff?"_

And Sephiroth laughed. Zack sat beaming at the man, a whole new world of understanding opening up between them. He was so excited about Sephiroth he could barely think. There was so much he wanted to ask him, so much to talk about!

"Gosh, I'm learning so much about you that makes sense now. You always seemed so aloof. You'd walk past people talking to you like you didn't even hear them. I never would have guessed you did that because you really _couldn't hear them_."

"Well…most of the time." Sephiroth smirked, and Zack remembered who he was talking to. A rebel and a hellraiser indeed.

"Hah! Were you always such a troublemaker?"

"Well, more so when I was your age."

"Yeah, _what about _when you were my age? Was there ever a SOLDIER 3rd Class Sephiroth?"

And Sephiroth flashed a dark smile through downturned brows. He floated back to earlier days, to when he was a younger man like Zack and wore a braid, to when he was a boy like Cloud which seemed like so long ago…like visions of the past…

* * *

The Paragon Fighter Mech-Chopper flew in spearhead-formation, an Immediate Need Striketeam en route to Wutai.

Gaze straight, jaw taught, ocean eyes focused out into that deep pool of night, he waited for the op code to jump.

"_3…2…1…MARK!" _

A boy with a Buster Sword leapt from the chopper.

He landed crouched on the ground. He was still working on getting that Jump right. With black stallion hair pulled back in a pony-tail and bangs like a hypernovic star, he dashed into combat-mode barehanded ready to brawl.

A flying double-kick slammed back-forth into two troops, dropping their halberds. He swept them up at his sides, his weapons now. His sword remained sheathed on his back as he ran on. It was a game he played with himself to see how long he could go without drawing it.

Rotorwash whipped his hair across his face as another SOLDIER leapt from a chopper above him and hovered in the air like an auric ascension. The second boy dawned a Tiamat-red long coat with rust hair that splayed his shoulders in a swooping layered-cut, one side of his head shaved to skin. He summoned a globe of Dark-Fira to shoot down at Angeal in a wave, while Angeal dove under as it swept the ranks of Wutai. Popping to his feet, he chased after the flamewall, he and Genesis putting fire on the ground in a _Wag Dodge_.

They looked aloft to see a third chopper sweep over their location, banking off to their left for a High-Altitude Low-Opening drop. The silent ghost of a third operator flew through the air, slicing sheerwind with a daikatana. Boots hit the ground that took off sprinting with no impact, footfalls like a cat in the night dashing to a high Pagoda tower in the distance. Angeal was already there.

Two halberds singed the sky, a serrating spiral-slash felled another wave of troops to clear the jump-zone against the tower. Shooting a halberd out like a plank, it caught the boots that landed on it, launching them up to the top floor with his Jump Materia.

The scream of a daikatana crescent-slashed the sentinels on the wall into oblivion, landing crouched on steel toes and flicking the blood off his blade. The third boy stood with a slow eclipsing rouse in his SOLDIER uniform, the cold gleam of death in cerulean eyes and a long silver braid flowing down the length of his back.

Stalking like a Bengal tiger into the gullet of the tower, a fluorescent fulminating arc-slash sliced through a garrison of armed guards. The remaining troops dropped their weapons, fleeing in terror. The Reaper had come to clean house.

A gargantuan Hydra-monster crawled into the passageway. Sephiroth dashed forward raking his sword against the ground in distracting sparks. Heads gnashed while he whipped from side to side in evasive maneuvers, his blade flashing in lines like tangled wire to slice whirlwinds against scaled necks.

A single-slash clear through one and he kept going, wall-kicking into another hyperphonic blade-crash against a ramming head. Leaping onto its back he drove the tip of his sword deep into spinal tissue and dragged, running with his blade down to the tail and diverolling off. He kept running, not stopping to see if the creature had fallen. He knew.

Genesis reached the tower and floated up, while Angeal foot-laced his way up a rope. They found Sephiroth crouching behind a low buffer wall in the tower and spoke to him, but not with words, with sign-language.

"_Take care of all the bad guys down here. We'll go after Masamune_," signed Angeal.

"No! Don't listen to him!" Genesis turned Sephiroth about, speaking in signs and out loud. "We'll take care of all the baddies, you go after Masamune."

Angeal shot him a flat glare.

"And how's he gonna get up to the roof genius? You've got the Float Materia!"

"That's the plan we agreed on! Stick to the program Angeal!"

"And what are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna hang back and heal."

"Aw, that's so cute, what's wrong? Afraid you're gonna break a nail?"

"Hey! I just got them done! Jerk!"

"Oh yeah? Well you're fat!"

"I am not!" Genesis pat his sides.

Sephiroth's gaze flipped from Genesis to Angeal and back in panic. What should he do?

Angeal laid a big hand on his back.

"…Just do what you do best."

Sephiroth dashed out. Roger.

A vaulted antechamber came upon them, moonlight spilling from an arena sized hole in the roof. That's where they saw him.

Hatori Masamune, a man like a midnight sun, adorned in silver armor speckled with stars like the sky and the horned helm of a Dragon Knight. In his left hand, he carried a 12-foot daikatana.

Sephiroth rushed in, scooping up a fallen guard's saber with a free hand; a little trick he'd picked up from Angeal. He slammed his blade down on a sister blade that waited for him, brushing off to sweep in a wide arc overhead. Sephiroth flipped the saber backhand against his forearm, bracing off his daikatana to block the slice. Sparks flared upon a monumental impact. He struggled against the Dragoon's superior strength as Masamune looked down on the young boy.

"You fight with an odachi in one hand, a difficult style, but all things are difficult at first, no?"

Sephiroth sheered the blade off, driving for him in whipping whirl-crashes. The sheen of moonlight exploded against their laser-edged hits. Masamune's sword flailed back like a thrown cape.

"You're not the first one they've programed to come after me, just the first they've manufactured."

He bashed Sephiroth back as slitting slices whirled on each side of him to keep him off balance. Sephiroth leapt away off a hand to land smooth like a thief as Genesis and Angeal ran up.

"Masamune," Genesis growled, and the man flipped a theatrical hand.

"We know you've turned every warrior who's ever accosted you to your side. You're not going to get us!" called Angeal. Masamune peered at the group, scanning their souls.

"The family that unites together fights together." In a flash he pointed his sword at Genesis. "You! Red-headed stepchild! You will be the skein that breaks apart this brotherhood."

Genesis lurched forward, but Angeal held him back. "No! I would never hurt my family!"

"Easy tiger, he's just trying to get in your head."

The daikatana lowered to Angeal next.

"Ah. The oldest. The honorable one. You will have the honor of watching them die."

Angeal let him go. "Get him Genesis!"

Genesis leapt forward to hover in the air, charging a growing Firaga specter with all of his ridiculously overpowered magic stats. With that same fire in his eyes he cast flaming flare-missiles at the Dragoon, who whipped them away with a starlight daikatana…and vanished.

Sephiroth ran after him, Jumping up through the hole in the roof. Genesis Floated up following fast, while Angeal climbed the walls. They raced along the rooftop to where Masamune stood surrounded by a garrison of Wutai sentinels. Genesis cast a wall of flames to encircle the Dragon Knight, cutting him off from his troops while Angeal bash-tackled the first guard who came at them to sweep up two sabers. He crossed them as Sephiroth leapt at him, catching his foot and throwing him over the wall of fire to face Masamune alone.

Sephiroth called his loyal Summon to his side, Siren. The enamoring mer-creature cast a wave of white-noise over Sephiroth that had no effect on him—he'd turned his implant off—to sweep over Masamune lowering all of his barriers and defenses. He was vulnerable now.

The rush of cured metal bashed against stone and saber edge, flaring shooting sparks like stars in the veiled night. As the flames roared around them, they battled like gladiators whipping and slicing to stalemate or death. Sephiroth shot a fulminating arc-slash that whipped in a white line against the zing of another daikatana. A harrowing slash that followed a line like tangled thread sent him flying back. Sephiroth toppled across the ground like a stricken child.

As Masamune's daikatana fell for the killing blow, a Buster Sword shot out to block it. Sephiroth saw Angeal standing over him, holding Masamune's sword at bay with his own. He'd drawn his sword—for Sephiroth.

The two fighters' eyes flashed fire as the Buster Sword knocked Masamune back. Sephiroth dashed up, leaping over Angeal to flare an arc-slash down in elliptic crashing waves on a blade that crashed back. The floating-foot technique carried Sephiroth into slitting upswipes, flash-searing figure-eight's drawn in the air with his blade. Both fighters' wound up, single-slashing at the same time as blade met blade in a symphonic steel tirade. Sword tips dragging the ground to shoot likewise sparks back at one another, they turned to face each other in the same space between empty heartbeats. The Dragoon saw the boy, standing like the flames belonged to him.

"And you, the youngest, last to be born, last to die. For you, I reserve judgment. We will meet again."

In a flourish of his sword he swept a wave of ice around himself, vanishing. A floating blue orb whisked to the sky in his wake, serrating the heavens in aural Antarctic storms. As the symbologic zodiac lit up under their feet, the orb materialized into a malefic sea serpent that wreathed the sky in icy doom, charging a Lunar Tsunami. Leviathan, the lord of all waters, emperor of the dark ocean depths, looked down upon the world and found it unworthy.

Angeal grabbed Sephiroth and crouched down over him, while Genesis leapt in front of them.

"Do it Genesis!" Angeal called, and a look of fear crossed the eyes of the boy with red hair. He flashed his hands into the proper movements, spoke the correct incantation, calling upon the most powerful magic grimoires he possessed to summon a barrier around them. Genesis' Barrier was the stuff of legends, a hemophiliac couldn't afford to get hit even once, hence his Kevlar-weaved long-coat. As the serpent charged its neon beam to tear the ground asunder, Sephiroth peered up through Angeal's arms.

He saw his older brothers standing over him, protecting him. If this was the last image he was to see in life, he was satisfied.

The megalithic beam blasted down on them from the sky, assaulting the ground with the driving force of four oceans. White flash, enigmatic blast, the tower lurching and shaking under their feet…but when they opened their eyes, they were still alive.

The beam receded and Genesis wobbled like a drunken man, then fell over. Angeal rushed to him, slapping him across the face over and over.

"Come on Genny-G. Quit being a wuss!"

Genesis came back in a blur of sleep inertia.

"Ugh. The world needs a new hero. I quit."

* * *

"Wow, you were a cool kid!" Zack gaped, while Sephiroth winced.

"Well, that makes one of us who thinks so."

"Aw gee, you and Cloud, you guys are like self-image Slumdogs!"

"He reminds me a lot of myself. It is so strange to look upon the image of a boy you once were, listen to all the same problems you had, and repeat back all the same lessons you were once taught. However, I'm sure that is how fathers feel about their children as well."

"Well, I wouldn't know about that, but I like hanging out with him, kinda makes me feel like a big brother or something."

"That feeling you have for him, it is the same way that I felt with Angeal when I was small, like I had an older sibling, a looming guardian angel protecting me under his wing."

"Oh yeah? How'd you guys meet?"

"…"

* * *

The chopper flew over fields of ice as a SOLDIER 2nd Class complained from inside the cockpit.

"Take this kid out on a training mission, they said, get him acclimated, they said. The guy can't even hear me! Hey!" he tapped Sephiroth's shoulder. "Keep that thing on! We're in the field now!"

Sephiroth tapped the pinhead-sized button on his implant to turn it on, so he could hear the pinhead complaining again.

"Man, I could have been at a barbeque today! Instead they want me run this baby deer around the pasture securing a Mako mine that doesn't even need to be secured! What the heck do they expect us to fight there? Abominable snowmen? At least this guy will blend in!"

The chopper touched down in front of a factory subdivision, letting the two operators out. One-and-a-half operators, by the 2nd's standards.

"Now listen, _listen_! Dammit, they don't pay me enough for this. We're going to go in there, do a sweep, kill a couple feral cats and come home, got it? They give me peanuts for a gear-stipend, while nobody gets paid a wage, they refuse to promote anyone from the inside and then yell at me to—"

A spear flew straight into his diaphragm. Sephiroth saw him fall in surreal slow motion. He looked up to see an amassing of Wutai troops swarming from the factory.

The sense of the world rushing up on him, his infused pupils constricted in ice terror. Sephiroth flipped into survival mode, and his sword started swinging.

Most people kill one, maybe two people their first time in battle. When the extraction team touched down in the field, they beheld one thousand bodies strewn across the ground.

They found him at the end of a bloody trail inside the factory, convulsing on the ground in mute terror. His eyes were wild and feral, pure horror gripping him in the mortified rind of psychosis his mind had fled to. As SOLDIER's filed around him, his sword tip shot out to keep them away. Inside the whirl of his mind, he was still fighting.

One SOLDIER with a Buster Sword on his back pushed his way through the crowd. He took off his helmet revealing ocean eyes on a face with a youthful glow, the kind of soft brow that didn't furrow in anger or in play. He kept his long hair pulled back with helmet-frizzed bangs that went all over the place like a catalytic explosion. While the rest of the extraction team kept hands trained on their weapons, he saw something different than they did in the slight, emaciated form trembling on the ground.

…A terrified child.

With a cocked eyebrow, he looked at the kid and half-smiled.

"Dang, you look like you just saw a ghost!" Nothing registered on the boy's contorted face as the SOLDIER crouched down to eye level. "It's alright. There aren't any ghosts here. We did a séance on the chopper flying in, black candles and everything."

He kept a cool demeanor, wafting positive energy toward the kid. Tapping the floor with his hand, he edged his way toward him, past the point of the sword and the laser-sharpened blade. Slow now, one flick of the wrist and that thing could go straight into his neck. With patience he was able to sit beside him to drape an arm over his shoulder. The kid crumbled against his chest. He set the sword aside as the lithe, small figure clawed and clung to his shirt.

"What's your name kid?" he asked like they weren't surrounded by cleaved bodies.

"S-S-S-S-Sephiroth…"

The SOLDIER smiled.

"I'm Angeal. Is this your first mission?"

"…mm-hm."

"ICE CREAM!" Angeal threw his fist in the air. It seemed to break the spell a little. "It's a tradition we have in the Unit. Whenever a rookie goes out on his first mission, we take him out for ice cream. What's your favorite flavor? Wait, let me guess, please don't say vanilla."

"What's ice cream?"

"Huh?"

Then another SOLDIER jammed a syringe of Paralyze Materia into Sephiroth's neck, while others tore Angeal off him. They strapped the boy down to a body board, black goggles over his eyes and muffs on his ears—sensory deprivation.

Angeal thrashed behind the restraining troops who managed to hold him back.

"I had him talking you bastards!"

.

[Received Dark Agent]


	35. Ch 34- Visions of Past and Present Pt2

"Yikes!" Zack's face went stark pale. "That sounds like Angeal alright, sticking his neck out for someone else in the darkest times—literally."

"That day is one of many nightmares that make me slam the wall at night in a dead sleep."

"Were you okay? Back then, I mean."

"I don't remember much after they put me in ISO, but I remember Angeal was the first thought I had when I came out."

"And you guys were close ever since?"

"I didn't see him again for a while."

"So how did you start hanging out? How'd you become such good friends?"

"Well, let's just say it was hard to _blend in _at SOLDIER…Angeal was the biggest kid in the Unit, I was the smallest. Opposites attract, I suppose, but he was also one of the few who could speak my native language."

"He took you under his wing?"

"More than that. He took care of me…"

* * *

Angeal lived in Banora, a farming community famous for its apple orchards. He took Sephiroth home with him on their vacation days. A long bus ride saw them at a modest little cottage his grandfather had built. Sephiroth met Angeal's mother…in a wheelchair.

"Hey mom, I'm home! This is Sephiroth, he's my friend in SOLDIER."

But Gillian Hewely's eyes welled up with tears at the sight of the pale boy, and she hurried to wheel away into the other room. Angeal winced.

"Gee, was it something you said? Ha ha."

"_What happened to her_?" Sephiroth signed as they threw their bags down.

"She says my birth was real hard on her, she used to work for the R&amp;D Department at Shinra before OSHA. It wasn't safe." Angeal got serious as they sat on the sofa. "Shinra doesn't give her much worker's comp, so my dad and I pick up the slack. He's drilling that new reactor that's supposed to go up outside of town."

"_Wow. He drills the reactor chambers_?"

"With his own hands, same way my grandfather used to mine Mythril. He's tougher than anyone in SOLDIER. I wanted to work with him when I grew up but he wouldn't have it, made me pick a different dream, hah."

Angeal glanced at his sword leaning against the wall. "Once I did, he stood by me one-hundred percent until I saw it through. You'll meet him later when he gets off work, and my brother too…"

The zany purr of a 1000cc L-twin engine shredded its way toward the garage. Angeal leapt to look out the window.

"Is that my broski?!"

He stampeded in a whirl of excitement out to the garage as a victory-red Ducati G-Bike rolled up next to the pit blasting Alice in Chains. A tall, lean figure sporting a Tiamat-red long-coat kicked the stand down, and flowed off the bike like a fashion model. He swooped off his helmet to let red windswept hair flow down around his shoulders, half the side of his head shaved to skin in a neo-punk display of urban grunge.

"Hay bois."

"Genny-G!" Angeal threw a hug around the boy who apparently was his brother. But the guy squirmed out of it.

"Ooh, watch the hair bae. I just got it razored in the city."

"I dig. How'd the Avalanche mission go?"

"Pfft, eco-terrorists, I eat them like peanuts. Did I say nuts?"

He was in SOLDIER? The sword latched to his warrior-insect of a sportbike seemed to confirm it. Angeal introduced them speaking and signing at the same time.

"Sephiroth, this is my brother Genesis. Gee, this is Sephiroth. He's a rookie fresh out of A-School."

Genesis caught the sign-language and flew into his own, spelling his name out one letter at a time for Sephiroth. What he said out loud was…

"Hi. I'm Genesis. I'm this big loser's foster-brother. Nice to meet you."

What his hands said however was…

_"Hi. I'm G-E-N-E-S-I-S. I'm a big fat loser. Beautiful two steak you_."

When Genesis saw Sephiroth's cocked eyebrow, he groaned.

"I didn't say what I think I said did I?"

Angeal burst out laughing. Genesis hadn't been as close to dear old Aunt Elsa as Angeal had.

Back inside, they talked in military lingo that Sephiroth was still too green to grasp. A pickup truck pulled into the driveway, and the most gigantic man Sephiroth had ever seen stomped through the door in steel-toed boots. He had brow of folded steel and a gaze that could rip a man's heart out and chew it like tobacco. He hung his Carhart jacket and hard hat on the coat rack while Angeal ran at him with arms flung wide.

"Dad!"

"At Attention SOLDIER!" he bellowed, and Angeal shot up straight. "State your rank."

"Angeal Hewely, SOLDIER 3rd Class, sir.

"How long have you been a 3rd, son?"

"Too long, sir."

"You're a slacker, a lazy bone-head with the maturity of a pig-fetus and the attention-span of an ox. You're a disgrace to the SOLDIER name!"

After a tense moment, the flash of rage faded, replaced by a glowing warmth. "…And an honor to this family's name."

He wrapped Angeal in a big bear hug. Old Man Hewely, a hard man, a good man, and a jokester to boot.

The man looked over at the red-haired punk-rocker leaning in a curved line against the wall, scoffing at all this familial tosh.

"Genesis, cut your hair you sissy!"

"Oh puh-lease, Pop. You could use a color yourself. I hear salt-and-pepper was all the rage in the 40's."

Genesis went over to take his own turn in his father's arms, but tried to squirm out for his hair. Sephiroth froze as those cold steel eyes trained on him like the crosshairs of a hunting rifle.

"And who's this pale pup? You bringing home strays again Angeal?"

But something stirred in Sephiroth. He approached the big man and did something that surprised everyone in the room. He spoke.

"Hello Mr. Hewely. I'm Sephiroth. I'm Angeal's friend."

His voice was clear and monotone, not as deep as it would be later in his life, but he didn't slur his words, nor did he pronounce his "s" like "sh." Angeal and Genesis' jaws were on the ground, but the man raised his eyebrows at the kid.

"Mr. Hewely? You going to give me a raise, boss?"

Sephiroth squinted as the man pointed to the other boys.

"Listen here. Genesis ain't even mine, but both these boys call me Pop. You will too, we clear?"

"Yessir."

"Good lad. Now go get your old man a beer from the chest."

Angeal and Genesis helped their pop into his arm chair with a great grunt, braces on both his knees. He talked to the boys about his days, the good old when-he-was-their-age speeches that never got stale. He'd been a militiaman back when Banora was a military outpost in a long forgotten war. He and his battle-buddies held off the North pass until the cease-fire. The only thing that kept them going was their sworn duty to each other, their _honor_. Now the man taught his children that their oath to each other was sacred, and they should love each other above all else in life…

"…Except for your women," he smirked in Genesis' direction. The boy scoffed at Pop Hewely's evil-streak of a heart.

Sephiroth came with a cold one, but Pop handed him a lighter. Angeal pantomimed what he was supposed to do as Sephiroth got to work. But when Genesis got up to do it for him, Pop yelled with a booming voice.

"HEY!" he pointed Genesis back into his seat. "Let him do it."

Sephiroth got back to work. His knuckle bruised, the skin rubbed raw and bled. He wanted to cry thinking of how he'd lose the family's trust over a lighter! Twenty minutes later, by some minute adjustment of his wrist, the cap popped with a fizzing veil of mist.

"Thank you boy," Pop took the beer with gruff satisfaction. "Angeal, go take the pup out to meet the dogs."

And Angeal made Sephiroth follow him to the back door. But he glanced back at Genesis, who didn't join them.

"_You go on, I'll catch up_," Genesis signed.

Sephiroth nodded and followed Angeal out back. They went into a shed where Angeal filled ten massive tin dog bowls with kibble and carried them in a big tower toward huge pen.

"So whaddya think of my dad?" he asked Sephiroth out loud, and Sephiroth answered out loud.

"I…feel safe around him."

Angeal made no comment whatsoever about Sephiroth speaking. He carried on as if he'd always talked, and from that day on he always did.

"Yeah, my old Pop's a crazy bullrocker. I can only hope I'll be as tough as he is someday."

"Your brother. He is special to your father…"

"My dad takes extra care of him. Genesis was getting into a lot of trouble before he came to live with me. My dad checks him, gives him a strong mentor to look up to."

"He doesn't try to change him?"

"Heck no! With my mom in the state that she's in, who else would we get to go clothes shopping for us? We'd be gonners."

Angeal opened the gate of the massive pen fit for a behemoth and let them in.

"You're gonna love my dogs. They're the sweetest, fluffiest, cutest little things you've ever seen in your life!"

"What kind of dogs are they?"

A massive monster barreled into Sephiroth, taking him to the ground. With the weight of the world standing on his chest, Sephiroth's eyes bulged out of their sockets until…

A huge, sloppy, wet tongue lolled from his chin to his forehead, panting with the biggest, stupidest canine smile.

"King! Good boy King!" Angeal pulled it by a handful of scruff off Sephiroth. "This is my stud. Kingy! Sit boy! Good buddy!"

Sephiroth shuffled to his feet to see a massive male Malamute put his two front paws on Angeal's shoulders! Angeal shoved him off like a throw-pillow.

"He's got some wolf in him. I hate when people do that. They try to breed a big exotic animal and don't know what they're in for. So I rescue them."

Angeal threw a whistle.

"Fifi! Mittens! Fluffy! Button! Snowball! Cupcake!"

And Sephiroth did a starjump at seeing a sled-team bash-barrel toward him. They slammed into him, rubbing up against him with happy whines. Sephiroth smiled, sinking his fingers deep into thick undercoat fur. He'd never pet an animal in his life.

"I give them cute names so I can adopt them out to posh it-girls to raise awareness about the breed. I'm trying to start a fashion trend."

Sephiroth cocked a smile. That might actually work.

"People can't manage the energy of these dogs. They've got the attention span of a rock. So training takes endless patience and a lot of discipline. Alright guys! Sit!"

Some dogs sat like good puppies. Some shuffled around like bad puppies. All didn't dare touch their food bowls. Angeal hadn't said they could. Instead, King started howling, getting them all howling, while Angeal waved his hands like a conductor.

"I'm teaching them Ode to Joy."

But Sephiroth felt something tug at his boot. He cocked an eyebrow at a _little thing_ that snarled with a mouthful of shoelace.

"That's Supreme! Don't let him fool you, he's the toughest one here!" Angeal warned.

Sephiroth watched the little cat-dog teacup Chihuahua flip out on King! The big Mally leapt away from the rampaging ball of fur, surrendering his dish in submission. If Sephiroth ever had any self-confidence issues, they went right out the window.

At dinner time, Sephiroth helped out as much as he could…which was more so getting in the way. Angeal made a mean leftover casserole, Genesis chopped herbs and garlic, while Sephiroth handed them things.

"It had a name, Angeal," Genesis cringed at the lump of hamburger his brother kneaded.

"Yeah, its name was dinner."

That gripe made Genesis' hand slip against the knife. He didn't make a big deal about it, just stuck it in his mouth like a normal person would…but Angeal flipped! He dragged Genesis in a temper tantrum straight to the emergency room. Sephiroth didn't understand as Angeal leaned against the wall, waiting for a prognosis from the doctor that Genesis was not going to die cooking dinner.

That night, Angeal shared his bed with Sephiroth. He doubted Sephiroth would want to share Genesis' bed.

"But Angeal, we could play footsie and have a pillow fight!" Genesis whined. Sephiroth smiled but opted to bunk with Angeal.

The next day after morning chores that were more like morning slave labor, Angeal hopped around Genesis giddy like a bunny.

"Did you get it, did you get it?"

"You have no idea what I had to go through for this. I should just save it for myself."

"ALRIGHT!"

They all three climbed onto the roof of the barn and Sephiroth saw what they were talking about, though he'd never seen a dime bag before. Sitting with him in between them, Genesis told Sephiroth about himself and Angeal as he packed a pipe.

Genesis _was_ the gymnastics team at Banora High School, and now he was in SOLDIER while all the bullies on the lacrosse team were working construction. Oh all those lacrosse boys had been so miserable surrounded by all that sweaty man-booty that they couldn't have. Angeal had always been a big lug-head. He didn't like school, so his dad made him join the military, and his brother followed him. Someone had to keep an eye on him.

"Taurus and Cancer are so compatible it hurts, but Angeal is so not my type. He likes _boobies_. Gross." Genesis clutched imaginary mounds on his chest to make that sign to Sephiroth.

"What's wrong with that?!" Angeal complained.

"They're so ohmygosh. They just hang there like big squishy water balloons."

"That's the point! How's it so different from the squishy hanging sacs you like?"

"Pfft, sweetie those golf-balls are closer to the hole…and I've got the flag pole."

Sephiroth's eyes flew wide. He could tell this friendship was going to be one heck of an interesting ride. Angeal zoned off into the sky.

"You see that hawk up there, that represents all of our dreams. The majesty of a bird in flight is our honor, when the two coincide together they create the most beautiful and deadly creature imaginable."

"Oh Angeal would you shut up and take your medicine like the rest of us!"

Genesis passed him the bowl across Sephiroth.

"But dreams guys, you need to have dreams! Just like Pop says, if we don't have dreams, we have nightmares." Angeal took a huge hit like a champion while Genesis hounded him like an old schoolmarm.

"Angeal, you need to have goals. There's no point in having dreams if you don't see them through." Genesis grabbed the pipe back taking his own hit, not offering any to Sephiroth. Angeal did the same as he rambled on with eyes that were starting to get glassy.

"But it's so much fun just making them! Who cares if you don't achieve them, just have them! We all need a dream."

"Really? Like what?"

"Like making 1st. That's a good dream."

"That is not a dream Angeal. That's a fantasy."

"We can all do it together some day!"

"Angeal, I will turn straight before I make 1st Class. Besides if I end up staying in SOLDIER that long, I'll go insane."

They continued smoking and philosophizing-slash-arguing, passing the pipe back and forth across Sephiroth. As Angeal's logic and reasoning became more incoherent and hilarious, Genesis nudged Sephiroth with a look of mischief.

"Watch this…Hey Angeal, what if we're not really here?"

"…Dude, don't do that, I am so blazed right now."

* * *

"That's not Genesis!" Zack insisted. "No way in hell do I believe you for a second. Genesis is a dirty, two-faced back-stabber. This kid's adorable, I want to pick him up and keep him as a pet!"

"Hard to believe, isn't it? Genesis was once as much of a loyal puppy as the rest of us, maybe more. Angeal wouldn't call just anyone family."

Zack slumped, putting a foot up on the chair again.

"So you were the quiet kid in the trench coat, Genesis was a motorcycle-punk, and Angeal was a pot-head with a pony-tail. You guys were one heck of a motley crew."

"I didn't get the coat until later," Sephiroth added.

A thought occurred to Zack. "You know, some guy with a pony-tail crashed your party, Aerith said…"

Wait…guy…pony-tail…some guy with a pony-tail in the alley with a Buster Sword…

"THAT SONOFA—!"

Zack lurched up, his jaw gaping. Angeal had showed up to his best friend's party just to hit on Zack's girlfriend! Mother f—

Why did that sound like something Zack would try to pull? He threw his hand in the air with a scoff.

"What an ant-farm."

"Angeal Hewely, always the integral image of honor…when he was older."

"So Angeal was kinda like me when he was younger?" Zack smirked.

"Hmfph, what do you mean kinda?"

* * *

Back in the days before OSHA applied to SOLDIER, Shinra tried to save money on transporting troops to missions…they got them rental cars.

Now Angeal stood at a rotary phone explaining to Director Lazard how they'd wrecked the rental. Cellphones were still the size of backpacks.

"Hey Lazard. Yeah, we're all okay, but we're going to need more cash to complete the mission."

"What happened to the funds I gave you before you set out?"

"We spent it on gas."

"All of it?"

"We got lost."

"Really? Then why does your transaction report show receipts to Captain Kippy Snickemsnook's Happy Funtime Land?"

Angeal remembered the rollercoaster at Gold Saucer. He and Genesis threw their hands up screaming while Sephiroth sat with no expression.

"Must be a glitch."

"I take it the commercial with the three of you on the water ride was a glitch too?"

They got off the log-ride soaked while a camera crew filmed them from the side. Angeal ran up shoving his hand in the lens.

"…Yes?"

"You're suspended for two weeks."

"But we're on a mission!"

"…You're suspended upon your return, and don't get any cute ideas about prolonging the mission. We're logging time-cards by hand this quarter."

Angeal snapped his fingers. _Darn_.

"Now that we're clear on your directives, is there anything else you'll be requiring?"

He looked at his brothers sitting slumped back to back on a bench…

"…Well, since we're already suspended, could you get us some pizzas? We're starving."

"Meat lovers!" Sephiroth shot up.

"Vegetarian!" Genesis shot up too.

"Meat lovers!" Sephiroth glared at him.

"Vegetarian!" Genesis glared back.

"MEAT!"

"VEGGIE!"

And then they were tussling, fists flying in a raging incoherent ball of tangled limbs. Angeal got back on the line.

"Okay, give me one Meat Lover's, one veggie, and one extra-extra-large Garbage Pie. I want anchovies, pineapples, sausage, chocolate chips, and BACON. Murder that thing with bacon!"

"…Is there anything mission-related you'll be requiring?"

"Hold on, lemme check. Hey guys, do we want breadsticks?" Curses flew from the fray and Angeal relayed it in nicer terms. "...Genesis wants to know what you're wearing."

*_Click_*

Angeal looked at the phone confused before hanging it up.

"Hey, wait for me!"

Then he jumped into the fight with his brothers.

After getting nice and bruised up, they got back to work…without a car. They arrived at the target compound on foot where Wutai troops funneled out like someone knocked over the cereal box they came in. Angeal let an evil grin work its way from ear to ear.

"Aight boys…it's party time." He snapped on his headphones and went to town.

They rushed in side-by-side—Angeal splitting off left, Sephiroth fanning out right, and Genesis not knowing who the heck to heal first. Angeal bash-elbowed the first troop he saw to scoop up his halberd while singing his favorite song.

_"DON'T STOP…BELIEVING…HOLD ON TO THAT FEEEEEEELING!"_

A jump-whirl slashed seven more troops while another came running in. Angeal block-strafed his spear-thrust, then kicked him into a brick wall. A song came on that he loved to make fun of.

_"WE BUILT THIS CITY ON RAWWW CANNNED ROLLLLLLS!"_

He pictured Pillsbury croissant rolls as he flipped the Wutai halberd backward over his shoulder and started picking off troops with the hidden-rifle like a peanut gallery.

_"SHOT THROUGH THE HEART, AND YOU'RE TOO LATE…Ha ha…"_

Angeal loved his job way too much, almost as much as he loved music…

"_NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP_…What? Genesis! Did you put Rick Astley on my playlist?...Jerk."

He met up with Sephiroth behind a low buffer wall, surveying the stretch to the fortress. Sephiroth shrugged at Angeal, who shrugged back. He tapped his daikatana to the Buster Sword still clipped on Angeal's back, which made him shoot Sephiroth a queer look.

"Don't touch my sword with your sword. I'm not Genesis, aight. I'm not into that stuff."

Sephiroth smirked as Angeal ran out to do more damage. Genesis followed Sephiroth now, to hell with Angeal and his antics. They cleared out an entire section of troops, then ran over to the other side…where they found Angeal dancing.

_"OW, OW, OW, OW, STAYIN ALIVE, STAYIN ALIVE…"_

They shot each other queer looks, cocking their eyebrows at Angeal.

"_What are you doing?"_ Sephiroth signed at him. Angeal flicked an X-Potion over his head like tossing a coin.

"Pfft, I'm staying alive. Wait…" He looked up, waiting for something, they all held their breaths… _"STAYIN ALIIIIIIIIIIIVE!"_

Genesis turned away with a mighty groan. Sephiroth turned his implant off.

They took care of the rest of the baddies while Sephiroth charged the fortress—always the spearhead of their offense. When they followed, Genesis once again floated up to the top floor while Angeal took the stairs. He took a breather halfway up panting against the wall.

"Note to self: run the dunes more."

When they got up to the apex with weapons itching, they found Wutai troops piled in a heaping mound with their little brother sitting on top of it eating pizza.

"_What kept you? I had to tip and everything!"_

.

[Received Lunar Harp]


	36. Ch 35 - Visions of Hope and Despair Pt1

Zack barricaded himself in the bathroom, hollering like the world was coming to an end. Cloud posted up outside doing what any good friend would do when their buddy was down and out...making it worse.

"Eggs and bread, eggs and bread, eggs and bread…"

_"Aaaaaahhhh_," Zack yelled. Cloud winced in empathy.

"Is it coming out both ends?"

"Yeah with the force of a Graviga!"

"Hehe…"

Sephiroth happened down the hall and Cloud got his attention. He lead him to the bathroom door where Zack moaned in agony.

"_Ohhhhhh_! Why is this happening to me?"

"Because you ate ten hotdogs, Zack."

"Sephiroth! Buddy! I'm dying, man. It was nice knowing you. Remember your SOLDIER honor. If I could hold your hand now I would."

"I'm not going to hold your hand, Zack. You're going to need that in a minute."

"I was just trying to be a hero!" He was trying to get Cloud to eat hotdogs…it worked.

"Thanks Zack," Cloud smiled. He could eat hotdogs now! Skinny Cloud had a thing about meat and Zack thought if he saw him eating it…

"I don't know where it all went wrong, how I got to this point, how one hotdog turned into ten. I'm sorry guys, I'm gonna have to pull an Elvis on this one. Oh no, I can see it now: Zack Fair, SOLDIER 1st Class, KIA on the toilet. You're here, and Cloud's here, thank you for being here in my final moments. You guys are the greatest, thank you for cheering me on in my crappiest times, thank you for holding the door so I can find my way out, thank you for just being awesome. I love you!"

Fortunately, a bout of food poisoning did not spell Zack's endoscopic doom.

Zack hung out in his usual chair by Sephiroth's window with a big sombrero on his head. It was a Galbadian holiday known as _Cinco de Mayo_, and Zack was all into the spirit. He kicked back in Sephiroth's room opening up to him. The man did save his life from a potential ruptured bowel.

"…And in 7th grade I kissed my first girl, but not on the mouth, like on the jaw, and that's why I think cats are awesome!"

"_No_," Sephiroth glared, remembering the blue Persian that watched his every move like it was some sort of robot.

"So tell me more about when you and Angeal were my age"

"What's there to tell? We were idiots too, the end."

"_Aw come onnn!" _Zack whined, making Sephiroth ponder. "Genesis too?"

"Genesis was a later addition to our trio, but completed a motley triangle of troubled operators."

"Man, must have been annoying having that fairy hanging around all the time."

"Au contraire, there was a time where I would have died for that man…"

* * *

Angeal and Genesis were like two peas in a neon pink pod with rainbow trim. Genesis didn't talk with a lisp, but when he let the flamboyant personality come out, it came like a virgin on prom night.

"_Oh-emm-gee_, see that guy over there? He's my husband. And that's our son, his name is Damien, and that woman with him, _pfft, _she's our _housekeeper."_

Hotdog Day in SOLDIER was _completely ruined_.

Angeal ate his cheese dog while Genesis leered at him.

"You _eat _that hotdog Angeal. You look like you're very _well-practiced._"

Angeal leered back. He grew up with Genesis, this was an ongoing war between them. Sephiroth sat watching the whole charade unfold like a catfight.

"How's that wiener working out for you Angeal? It looks _juicy_."

"Nah, it's actually more savory."

"Oh be sure to wipe that sauce off, don't let it dribble down your chin." Angeal did with a straight face. "You know if you swirl your tongue around it, you get more flavor."

Sephiroth put his hotdog down, and Angeal threw up his hands.

"No! You can't give in! That's what he wants!"

Genesis flipped his hand in a dismissive flourish. "He was _easy_."

Sephiroth winced, realizing the true target of this little sniping war had been _him_.

"_Arrggh,_ hand it over then," Angeal groaned. "Don't let it go to waste."

The cafeteria wasn't the only thing ruined. One night when Angeal suggested grub at a taco stand, Genesis _tsked _and took his hand. They ended up at a ritzy establishment the Turks were known to frequent.

"_Pfft_, yeah, we'll be able to eat here in a million years," Angeal scoffed. But Genesis shot an evil grin.

"Relax _gais_, it's on Lazard tonight." He pulled out a black Visa card, and Angeal's jaw dropped.

"How the hell did you get Lazard's credit card?" But instantly the blood rushed from his face. "Oh god, please don't answer that…"

Genesis cocked a hip, pressing a pinky to the corner of his leering lips.

"He was a bastard. No warning."

Angeal and Sephiroth rushed to opposite sides of the street to throw up.

So Genesis was a salacious little flirt, but he was always there with a motherly air whenever overhead snapped at Angeal for something stupid.

"_What's wrong_?"

There's a certain _composure_ guys treat each other with. But with Genesis and Angeal, all of that went straight out the window. They were the kind of guy-friends who would cry their eyes out next to a roaring fire. Regardless of anyone else's objections, Angeal loved his gay brother.

Angeal made a joke out of his own metrosexual tendencies at work, but back home in Banora, it was the devil! Angeal could do the best gay impression, and Genesis could do the best straight impression. Watching them imitate each other was better than television.

Riding in the back of Pop Hewley's pickup, blasting the Spice Girls on the dash radio, Angeal and Genesis sat side-by-side snapping selfies with a Polaroid camera.

"_Besties_!"

"_Ohmagahh_ boo, Angeal, your hair, it's everywhere! What did we talk about with my hairdresser Jessica about flat-ironing?"

"Shut-up! No way Jose!"

"Oh yes way, _all the way_."

"Don't make me snap my fingers in a Z formation at you!"

"Don't make me take off my earrings!"

"_Girlfriehh _don't try to flaunt what you don't got…"

Genesis crawled across the truck bed to sit next to Sephiroth. He put his head on his shoulder interlacing their fingers.

"You're not nice, Angeal. I'm going to be Sephiroth's friend now. We're taking our balls and going home."

Sephiroth tensed with bug-eyes, while Angeal just pointed and laughed. _Hah, your problem now!_

Sephiroth was still getting to know Genesis when the boy knocked on his door one morning. Genesis motioned for him to come to Angeal's room, and they went to the third door in their row. He inserted his ID card into the key-slot and spammed _zero_ until the door opened—that little trick worked on a soda machine downstairs.

Inside, they found Angeal singing and dancing to Michael Jackson…in his underwear!

_BILLY JEAN IS NOT MY LOVER  
SHE'S JUST A GIRL WHO CLAIMS THAT  
IIIIIIIIIIIII AM THE ONE!_

Angeal saw them leaning against his wall and hammed it up even more! He ran his hand down his face, striking a pose.

_BUT THE KID IS NOT MY SON! BAAABAAAYYY!_

He moonwalked across his room with a spin and a pop-scream. Sephiroth and Genesis lost it.

It was true that Sephiroth was mainly Angeal's friend at first. Now Genesis sat with them during lunch hour completing a bizarre pack of misfits. He did have a habit of scoffing at their steak and potatoes though. Angeal meanwhile explained the high-protein diet he had Sephiroth on like someone who bred greyhounds for racing. He wanted to see how big he could get him, their own little experiment that the R&amp;D Department could go kiss.

"He's not a chimpanzee, Angeal! You can't just _experiment _on him!"

Sephiroth looked over with a mischievous grin, and took a huge bite of steak. Angeal never let Genesis hear the end of it.

"You know, if you want seconds for your salad, there's a bush out back behind the Shinra Building…"

"You are what you eat, Angeal," Genesis shook his fork at him. An evil glow crossed Sephiroth's eyes as he signed over at their vegan friend.

"_Then you should lay off the fruit-salad."_

"Oh that's it! I'm going to sit somewhere else. This is _workplace bullying."_

He flipped his hair and sauntered off, Sephiroth and Angeal giggling at his back.

It was _very _true that Genesis was somewhat of a drama queen, always fussing over the dumbest little things, like civil rights and political activism—him and those damn whales.

"Eco-terrorists are no better than the oligarchies they fight against. You can't hurt people in order to save people, and you certainly can't hurt people to _save the planet_. People come first. Ecological management is superior to ecological activism because…" _blah blah blah._

And then there were his tirades about merit in the art world. The guy was into the kind of obtuse modern art that would flip a chair over and stick it in a museum. A graphite line on a blank stretched canvas, _SOLD!_ Genesis was part of the reason the Mob was able to stay in business laundering money by selling incoherent scribbles to anonymous buyers for mountains of gil…he was _part of the problem_!

But his true passion was poetry. His theatrics had women swooning like a sex toy, which he loved to flaunt in front of his straight brothers. Under no conditions was he planning on being a career-SOLDIER. He'd do his time, take his GI Bill and go straight to the University to study Classics—aka he was going to take his tuition and piss it all away—if his older brother didn't throttle him first for making him an unwilling study-buddy.

"I've been analyzing the last line of Act I_…She appears to the pure heart on Last Days, Fortelling his day to die…_Do you think it's trying to say the Goddess will return in spirit and body? Do you think it's a literal or figurative interpretation? Angeal, what do you think?"

Angeal yawned as the three of them walked through SOLDIER wing. "I think it's a crock of Jello. Bob Dylan wrote better poetry than that."

"How could you even compare trashy lyrics to the quaint spirituality that Loveless evokes? Infinite in mystery is the Gift of the Goddess, we seek it thus and take to the sky."

"OH! The places you'll go!" Angeal swept his hand in a world-encompassing arc.

"Angeal! How can you be so disrespectful?...Love seeketh not its soul to please, and builds a Heaven in Hell's despair…"

"I will not eat them in a box, I will not eat them with a fox!"

"_AAARRRGGGHH_ ANGEAL!"

"I will not eat them here or there, I will not eat them anywhere!"

"You prude! I hope you die young."

But Sephiroth, who walked quiet with his hands in his pockets, spoke up in a barely audible mutter.

"Love seeketh only Self to please, to bind another to its delight…"

Genesis and Angeal stopped, gazes trained on him. Genesis cocked an eyebrow and recanted another verse.

"Here we may reign secure, and in my choice to reign is worth ambition though in Hell…"

"…Better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven…Paradise Lost."

Genesis jumped in front of him.

"It matters not how straight the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll…"

"…I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul."

Sephiroth looked him in the eye, and Genesis' jaw dropped. But Angeal's hands made a picture frame.

"Aww, this is so cute! You two are perfect for each other!"

Genesis and Sephiroth stood star-struck. Angeal was right about one thing, this was the start of _something_.

They continued on together, Genesis talking to Sephiroth about poetry now. Angeal could only take so much fluffy prose for so long.

"Aight, enough poetry! C'mon Sephiroth, let's go get tickets for Back To The Future. Loveless over here can go see Dirty Dancing alone."

But Genesis put his hand on Sephiroth's shoulder.

"_Eh-eh_, Little Brother is with me tonight." Sephiroth saw an alluring flash cross Genesis' eyes. "You won't regret it. I promise."

He glanced back at Angeal, who made a queer face jamming an index finger into his cupped hand. Sephiroth rolled his eyes and followed Genesis.

He took him to a black-box theater a street up from Loveless Avenue; _Off-Loveless. _The audience was small, but Sephiroth noticed something very distinct about many of them.

Implants.

What could this mean? He had a feeling he was about to find out. A woman went up on stage with no microphone, ambient lights trained on her in a soft glow. She did something that made Sephiroth's jaw drop.

She started _signing_!

Sephiroth almost leapt out of his seat, brimming with excitement, but Genesis caught him by the hand to keep him down.

"Poetry for _you."_

Sephiroth lit up in a full glowing smile for the first time in his life. As he watched the poets perform in elliptic artful hand motions that conveyed sorrow, joy, and everything in between, Genesis watched _him_, still holding his hand.

From that day on, they were inseparable and insufferable. Genesis and Sephiroth signed for hours about the deepest subjects. No one could understand them save their saint of an older brother who put up with them. Sephiroth was also beginning to act like a true brother, dragging Genesis by his sword harness to the medical bay kicking and screaming.

"This is ridiculous! You're just as bad as Angeal! I'm a big boy and I don't need to be swept off to the doctor every time I take a little fall!...Why do I not feel so good?"

But their relationship really kicked off the day Sephiroth lost his uniform deposit.

They faced off against a pack of gorgonopsids when one slipped by their defenses…charging for Genesis. He charged a Fira to take it out, but Sephiroth _reacted. _He leapt in front of Genesis and accidentally took his Fira bolt, which in turn made him take a cross-slash to the chest.

"Whoops! Sorry," Genesis winced.

Aside from the sunburn Sephiroth would have for the next few days, his uniform shirt was _slashed to ribbons_. Angeal ran over with wide eyes.

"Whoa! You should leave it like that. You look so cool!"

Unfortunately it was the only uniform shirt Sephiroth owned.

"Eek, do you want my coat?" Genesis asked. Sephiroth shook his head.

"_Red isn't my color."_

Back at barracks, Genesis took Sephiroth into his room.

"I have one in black too. I got it downtown during Fashion Week. I paid almost _five whole paychecks _for it! It's like way too big on me though."

Sephiroth cocked an eyebrow.

"Why did you buy it then?"

Genesis flipped his hand.

"_Impulse buy. _I thought it would give me motivation to get to the gym. Oh dear…guess not."

Genesis pulled the black gunmetal coat from his closet and held it up to Sephiroth.

"_Ohmygaah_, try it on!"

Sephiroth did. He was swimming in it.

"Oh well you're so much more motivated than I am, it'll give you something to aspire to!"

"What size is this? XXXXL?" Sephiroth took the coat off, and _took his shirt off_. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra shirt I can borrow?"

Genesis caught his breath.

"Um…Shoot, _I don't_. I, uh, I don't actually _wear _clothes, I just borrowed these."

Sephiroth contemplated his tattered shirt, while Genesis contemplated him. The meat-and-potatoes diet was working. Genesis saw boulder muscles starting to develop around his arms and chest, alabaster curvature chiseled into his pale figure like a renaissance sculpture.

Genesis swooped right in, throwing the shirt out of his hand.

"Who needs shirts? They're for old straight fat dudes. A rogue like you doesn't need to…eh…_hide _anything."

Genesis threw the gunmetal coat around Sephiroth and made him put his arms through the sleeves. He buckled the sword straps across his chest, hands sweeping in luscious flowing caresses over his skin more than they probably needed to, remaining there to fiddle with them after they were secured…to _make sure._

He stood back to see a boy become a SOLDIER, the black monolith with silver lining. The coat fanned out on him like a black mage's cloak, his braid rolling down the length of his back as if to catalogue the inches he'd grown. Luminous as shadow, Sephiroth's dark eyes seemed to smile in satisfaction as he clutched his lapels over his ever-broadening shoulders. Genesis stood there in awe.

"Sephiroth?" He looked up to meet him, and Genesis hesitated. "Could you turn your implant off? My signing isn't as good as Angeal's, but I'd like to say this to you in your native language, so that I can be certain you'll understand."

Sephiroth pricked up, turning his implant off and fixing his attention on Genesis. _What's up?_

Genesis composed himself and began signing.

"'_Life is about remaining true to ourselves despite other's disapproval. I am gay, I've never hid this, and you don't judge me for it. I don't know if you stand by me out of ignorance or devotion, but you are a virtuous soul. Each of us has a virtue. Angeal values honor, but my virtue is love. If you don't have love, you're nothing. Love is not a chore, it's a revelation. Honor is a noble virtue, but if we don't have love then what the hell are we doing here?'"_

Genesis placed a hand on his shoulder, signing with the other over his heart.

_"'…When I say family, I'll die for you.'"_

When Genesis' hand dropped from his shoulder, Sephiroth caught it, pulling him in for a hard hug. Genesis gasped. His arms engulfed him like _Angeal's _arms, gripping him in a brotherly embrace before they let go of him.

Sephiroth threw him a smirk, and walked out into barracks sporting his new coat in front of everyone.

Jaws…floor.

* * *

"Well it fits you NOW!" Zack exclaimed while Sephiroth stretched his shoulders inside his coat.

"It's a little tight, actually."

"I know what my virtue is. Appetite. I can eat a whole whale!"

_"Hunger_ is not a virtue, Zack. But you'll find yours on your own someday."

Zack pinched his chin, mulling over what he decided was his virtue. "Awesomeness."

Sephiroth grunted.

"I want to ask you a serious question, Zack. Now that you know Angeal's position on a _controversial _subject, I am curious to know yours. Do you agree with his sentiments?"

"Of course! My buddy Damaris is like that. He's dating some famous fashion designer who buys him whatever he wants. I'm hella jealous because I could be dating the most posh it-girl in Midgar and I guarantee you I will _still _be paying for dinner!"

Zack threw his hands up while Sephiroth let out a slight grin. He went silent for a long moment before working up the nerve to speak.

"Then I think I feel comfortable telling you this next story. But you'll have to excuse me if I take a moment to compose myself, I want to be sure I get it right."

"Take your time. How could you mess it up if I don't know either way?"

"…I've never told it to anyone."

.

[Received Mind Stone]


	37. Ch 35 - Visions of Hope and Despair Pt2

Long live the weekend! Angeal and Genesis wanted to go paint the town red, but Sephiroth only owned his SOLDIER blues, so they hooked him up.

Angeal's closet was like a girl's bedroom, every designer label and knock-off brand halfway hung on racks and scattered on the floor. Sephiroth came out in a black shirt with black jeans over his black boots and a black belt.

Genesis rolled his eyes.

"Your life is a withered rose."

Angeal sported his navy blazer with the kind of Stunner glasses worn at night, while Genesis rocked skin-leather leggings that cut off circulation with a distressed V-neck sheer top. They hit Loveless Avenue on their way to the club, Genesis freaking out the entire way.

"He's going to get carded!"

"No he's not! Play it Bogart. Here we go…"

They strolled up the steps past the bouncer, home free, until…

"Hey you! Girl with the hair!" the bouncer called out and Sephiroth turned around. "Not _you_. Red-head, Anne of Green Gables. ID!"

"WHAT!" Genesis flipped around in a tirade. "I come here _all the time_! You know me! You do this to me every time! It's because I'm—"

"No ID, no-go…"

Genesis groaned and flashed his ID. The bouncer checked it long enough for the whole line to get a look at him, and let them by.

Inside, a raving colloquium of neural-noise slammed Sephiroth in sheer-static. Flashing lights, flaying hands, the energy of a human ocean. Electropop audio-synths blared in his implant like a detuned buzz-saw.

_BRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZRRRRRRRSSCCCHHHHHHHHHH_

He turned it off, whirling in an uptight miasma of psychotechnic slamdancing. Angeal ditched them in all of five minutes, dancing with twenty girls and if he had his way he'd be going home with all of them tonight. But Genesis pulled Sephiroth to the bar where he got them mixes. He finished his in one shot, while Sephiroth choked on his.

Genesis laughed, ferrying them toward the dance floor, and the pale boy froze. But Genesis took him mind-whirling by the shoulders, getting right up in his field of view so he could read his lips.

"It's alright. No one can see us anyway."

A certain assurance radiating from his aura engendered a sense of overwhelming trust from somewhere Sephiroth couldn't explain. Genesis pulled him into the fray and they danced amid roaring masses of ravers. Though he couldn't hear the auric ascending vocals, he could feel the rhythm of the pounding vibrations from the speakers. Seventeen was the best year of Sephiroth's life.

Genesis pushed him out of the crowd against the back wall, wrapping him up in a hug amid laser-lights of neon and solipsism of silent electronica. Sephiroth wouldn't be able to discern the pounding of the amplifiers from the pounding heart of the boy in his arms, he didn't know enough about people yet to understand.

The three of them left together, Sephiroth and Genesis dragging Angeal with their drunken arms over each other. They threw him in his room like a bag of clothes and stole over to _Genesis' _room.

They fumbled to light candles on an end table with a fire specter. _Okay, we survived lighting candles without killing ourselves._

Sitting flopped on his bed, they talked, about everything and nothing in alcohol-induced rambling. Genesis told Sephiroth everything about Angeal growing up.

"He went to the bathroom sitting down until he was TWELVE! He also wet the bed…okay, well, that was me actually…"

He talked about how he and Angeal had always been BFF's, but there'd never been anyone else in their group. Sephiroth was so mysterious. Genesis got the feeling that he and Angeal had been his only human contact up to this point. He asked him about what it was like for _him _growing up, and Sephiroth couldn't say anything. Genesis sat up, swaying from the booze.

"Look, I'm drunk, so I probably won't remember _any _of this in the morning. You've got a free pass to tell me whatever you want!"

So Sephiroth did. He told him he'd only met his mother once, for a brief moment when he was a child. She gave him a soft, warm hug, and then she was gone. Now Sephiroth was alone, and he yearned for her to hold him again, for someone to wrap him up in that eclipsing warmth.

"Hey! I know what will cheer you up!" Genesis leapt up to grab something off a shelf.

He showed Sephiroth an ARMA prototype computerized touchpad that wouldn't be released to the public for another decade or so. Lying side by side on the bed, they explored this _new toy_.

"Where in the world do you get this stuff?" Sephiroth asked. Genesis just flicked his hand.

"Oh, Lazard loves me, he gives me whatever I want…as long as I _give it back_."

Sephiroth squirmed and Genesis giggled. They swiped around on the touchpad in a game involving ninjas and fruit, but while waiting for the next level to load, Genesis noticed Sephiroth's hand wasn't poised to mess up some mangoes. When he saw him passed out on his shoulder, all Genesis could do was stare.

This angelic boy with pale skin seemed like a marble statue now. The smooth angles of his face and neckline bled of incandescent youth. Genesis' arm traveled a slow trail across his body, his heart doing terrible things that would only get him hurt.

Pulse increasing, not the _only thing _that was rising, nervous energy intensifying ten-fold until he went for it, slow, silent, serene. He brought his lips to his.

When Sephiroth woke up, he slammed a hard fist into Genesis' face. He threw him back into the wall and lunged at him, barreling down flaring punches so hard and fast that Genesis' blocking arms and blood-choked screams were merely fuel on the fire. Sephiroth blinked, coming back. _Wait…what?_

A blunt force sent him flying. Angeal side-checked Sephiroth across the room. Looking down at the bloody heap of his foster brother, and the wild-eyed whirl of his youngest brother, he threw his arms out in rage.

"Is this your idea of honor!"

He screamed at a bewildered Sephiroth who shook on the ground in shock.

Outside the medical bay, Sephiroth ran a hand over his face. His stomach threatened to turn upside down, to keep twisting until he was dead. As Angeal emerged from the medical bay, Sephiroth ran to him, and Angeal shoved him against the wall.

"I take you in, call you family, give you my food, my money, even my own home, and you try to kill my foster brother?"

Sephiroth signed fast to Angeal.

"_I didn't mean for this to happen."_

"He has hemophilia! He can die if he gets punched in the lip and you beat the piss out of him! Mull over that!"

And Angeal stormed off.

A punch to the face would have hurt less than Angeal's words, leaving Sephiroth stunned and alone. The security blanket of human contact ripped away, he knew this feeling all too well. With diligent steps Sephiroth went to the observation window.

Genesis lay in a medically induced coma, hooked up to tubes like a mad science experiment gone horribly awry. The bandages over his face and arms rendered him unrecognizable, a heart monitor showed his pulse as low…very low, and Sephiroth wished his own pulse would go that low too.

The clicking of dress shoe heels on tile approached, and the blood rushed from Sephiroth's face. He saw the reflection of a demon in the plexiglas window, and stood at attention…slowly, no sudden movements.

Dr. Hojo leered at the pale youth.

"You've done terrible things. Your impulsive emotions almost killed someone you care about, and deeply wounded your closest friend."

Sephiroth didn't breathe. This man was the only human being alive who had power over him. If he gave an order, Sephiroth _obeyed_. Few know the power of a mind shutting down, of abstract thought regressing and autonomic nervous systems taking over, numb void snuffing out higher brain function to a single linear reply: _yes master._

Dr. Hojo's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Why would you hurt the people you love? One would think it seemed almost…psychotic."

Terror clawed through Sephiroth's veins. What would make him do it? This man was the answer. Sephiroth would need only to point this man out to Angeal, and he wouldn't have to explain any further. This man had the power to give life, and in the same breath take it away.

What would he take away now?

"Will you submit to the medication?"

It wasn't a question, and Sephiroth's heart filled with despair. He saw the dying form of his brother lying prostrate in the hospital bed, felt the warmth of his body as they'd wrapped their arms around each other in the darkness of a dance club, and heard the mottled screams that brought him back from his blackout.

With a single nod, he surrendered his personality.

_They can take everything away from you._

A few weeks later, Sephiroth found Genesis lying listless on the steps in the common area.

"Hey," Genesis lazy-waved, and Sephiroth sat down next to him. He didn't speak, these things weren't spoken about, but it was time to find out if they were just going to pretend like the whole thing never happened or not.

"Don't mind me," Genesis spoke in a droning monotone, "they upped my medication."

Sephiroth had understood the weight of that statement for the past few weeks now, expressionless not by choice. But Genesis far surpassed _emotionless_, gazing with glass eyes out into a grey nowhere.

"They upped it _a lot," _the boy who once had beautiful eyes sighed. "I don't even feel it anymore. To be honest, I don't feel much of anything. I can feel it burning out my identity, neuron by neuron, my personality fragmenting. Things I used to enjoy doing bring me no amusement, my body is flesh for a funeral. I've known my whole life that I was dying, but now, I'm _degrading_. I guess I should say goodbye to you now rather than later…"

Sephiroth sat unfazed. This wasn't the first time Genesis had worked his way into a downward spiral of despair. Through the haze of his body adjusting to new chemical interactions, Sephiroth had no emotions to console him with.

They sat in silence until their shift ended and they went back to their rooms.

* * *

"_Oh my god." _Zack eyed Sephiroth aghast. "And I thought I went through Hell."

"How much hurt must one endure in order for it to hurt like Hell?"

Zack let his eyes fall to the ground. His whole body felt like it was already there.

"I guess it doesn't matter how much something sucks, it still sucks."

A long, _awkward _silence ensued.

"…Um…You know I won't see you any differently…It won't change my opinion of you if—"

"No," Sephiroth cut in. "Regardless of how much Genesis wants it, there is nothing there for him. You can't squeeze blood from a grapefruit."

"…I see."

Now Zack felt the word for what they'd stumbled on. _Taboo. _He got off it fast.

"So, um, Angeal seems like he used to be the life of the party."

"This is true. He wasn't always such an honor-head."

"What do you think set it off?"

"There were many dark events that played out in Angeal's sad life. But what probably sent him over the edge was when Old Man Hewely died. To us, that man was _Pop, _but to Angeal…that was _Dad_."

* * *

When the fabled promotion came at last for all of them, a surprise visitor showed up at the Shinra Building. They went downstairs to see their father waiting for them with open arms.

The biggest family hug in history ensued right in the Shinra lobby, photographers snapping pictures for human interest pieces. He'd taken a grueling bus ride all the way into the city by himself for this. Not for the life of him would he miss his sons' promotions.

But something was wrong. He walked with a cane. His salt-and-pepper hair was all salt now, and his muscle tone had decreased by a staggering amount. New lines of age marred his complacent face—he'd been a teenager when he brought Angeal into the world. The three of them were ecstatic to see him, but at the same time mortified.

They found a little diner in the Fountain District. Pop couldn't walk far enough to see the sights. This was a man who climbed down into the core of a mountain with ropes.

He told them with a proud smile how the reactor was almost complete, but a terrible whooping cough cut him short, and the boys caught the smear of blood and sputum in his hanky. He went on like Pop usually did about the good-old-days, but the details were fuzzy, the boys ended up telling most of the story for him. He was mixing up their names.

He rode into Midgar that day, he rode out that night. Before he left, he pulled $300 gil from his wallet and gave it to the boys. The last thing he said to them was that he was proud of them, and to protect each other, because one day he wouldn't be there and they'd be all they had.

When the phonecall came for all three of them through Lazard's office, it was surreal.

Genesis and Sephiroth walked with Angeal down the cathedral aisle, an open casket waiting for them at the end. Halfway there, Angeal fell to the ground, he couldn't do this.

His brothers scooped him up, carrying him as they walked the rest of the way together. When they reached the mannequin of a body that seemed like a wax sculpture, Angeal bid them let him go. He needed to stand on his own for this.

Gazing down on his father with a look of beguiled shock that refused to comprehend what was in front of him, he drew his sword from over his shoulder in a slow sweep and held it to his brow.

"I won't let this be in vain. I promise. I will protect my honor, always."

With a hyperphonic spin, he flung the Buster Sword onto his back, and walked tall from the chapel that laid his father to rest. Angeal left something behind on that altar, something playful and fun-loving, that blew away like petals on the wind.

From that day on, his brow was a solemn mantle, luminous beyond earth and sky. He became a sort of spiritual leader for younger recruits to look up to. His mother saw her husband in Angeal's ocean eyes. Everything his father had wanted, he became, but could he really have done it if he hadn't lost his father in the first place?

Time passed, but Angeal's funk did not. A brief moment alone found him face-to-face with Dr. Hojo in SOLDIER wing.

"Angeal, I've noticed a dip in your performance evals. I'm quite concerned. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's peachy."

"Are you sure? Director Lazard's door would seem to suggest otherwise."

Angeal sighed with hands in his pockets.

"…Well, my father, he just passed away recently."

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that, son." Angeal perked up, and Dr. Hojo put an arthritic hand on his arm. "It is normal to grieve, but when it interferes with one's work, then we need to ask ourselves if there is not a problem going on in the nervous system. Depression is a _chemical imbalance_. It would be a shame to lose someone of your, eh, _caliber,_ to something that is treatable."

Dr. Hojo had Angeal's full undivided attention. It's not like SSRI's were any better in Angeal's time, but he listened as Hojo gave him the lowdown.

"Will you submit to the medication?" the doctor asked.

But when Sephiroth and Genesis rounded the corner to see _this man_ talking to their brother, they shot each other urgent glances and freaked. Genesis raced over, bash-tackling him away from Angeal while Sephiroth leapt in front of them.

"Get out of here you snake!" Genesis yelled at him.

"What the hell are you doing!" Angeal screamed.

"Saving you!"

"He's just trying to help!"

"_No he's not! _You're still free. He's trying to get you the way he got us!"

Far from the enraged lectures that Angeal was known for, he actually _broke down crying._

"…But I don't feel like myself. It hurts! I don't feel right. What if he's right? What if there's something wrong? What if I need something?"

Genesis took his older brother by the shoulders, supporting _him _now.

"You don't need anything, you just need us."

Sephiroth stood stone before the scientist, emotions hidden behind the lull of psychotropics. What would make Hojo think that perhaps Sephiroth wouldn't turn his sword on _him_? The scientist had no way of knowing in the wiped neurosis devoid of emotional cues that stood before him. Right there, Sephiroth found his virtue, and Hojo started _laughing_.

The man cackled in mercurial bouts, staring at the pale boy who stood in front of his _family_. They collected their older brother in a crying heap, helping him away from a problem so shrouded in taboo that even Angeal never thought of it again; chronic clinical depression that went untreated for the rest of his life.

The months that followed their father's death, all three of them went into their own little worlds. Angeal shut himself up inside his room smoking copious amounts of weed, while Genesis locked himself in darkness with _harder substances_. Their foster brother sat with his Eidolon in a pocket dimension; communing with Diablos. Sephiroth did the only thing that ever brought him peace…he turned his implant off.

They all three became ghosts to each other. Sephiroth found Genesis in the hallway one day, sweating and shivering in the convulsing spasms of overdose. His red-ringed irises glowed in a dazed smile, wide and toothy as he reached for his youngest brother, but Sephiroth stepped back.

Genesis stood himself as upright as he could, back against the wall with a subtle smirk.

_So this is how it's going to be, huh?_

The red-headed boy walked a straight line away from him, becoming translucent as glass, and disappeared. Sephiroth meant to go after him, to follow him to wherever it was he was headed and pull him back, but his body didn't move. After a long time, he broke the spell, and went straight to Angeal's room. Enough was enough.

He knocked on the door and Angeal opened it stoned as a monolith. The bloodshot of his eyes bled onto his puffy cheeks, red as fly-ash trying to prove that it was possible to overdose on pot. He was the kind of high that wasn't for fun, the kind that cauterized over the amygdala in a mind-numbing haze against pain.

He staggered out of the way so Sephiroth could come in. Angeal sat on his bed while Sephiroth pulled a chair up in front of him. He took a deep breath, and spoke in signs to Angeal. He hadn't been able to manage words in a while.

"_We haven't spoken in a time," _he said. Angeal took a moment to answer him with his own signs.

_"I thought you wanted to be alone."_

_"…I don't."_

Angeal figured as much, did anyone really ever want to be alone? Sephiroth continued in small hand-motions, like he was speaking softly.

_"I know how this is supposed to go, we pretend like nothing ever happened and move on. I'd be willing to do that…if we weren't moving on apart. We're becoming like shadows lost in a world of shade. If we are to fall apart, then I want to tell you something about myself before you go. When I was a child, I was put into cryosleep for a long time, and when I came out, this was my body. I am nobody, I know nothing of consequence, and I own nothing of value that I would regret losing, except one thing. I miss…my friends."_

Far from the drug-induced scoff he'd expected, Sephiroth looked up to find Angeal's eyes boring into him. Angeal pulled him in for the hardest, longest hug he'd ever given anyone, holding Sephiroth so tight he could hear his elbows cracking.

"No matter what happens, through dark and hard times, no matter if we live or die, on my honor, you will always be my youngest brother."

They clung to each other like family, an oath they swore in a sacred finality that remained as they pulled away. They stood up as straight as they could, trying to get ahold of themselves. Their relationship still retained that emotional composure.

"Come on," Angeal scoffed, "let's go find Genesis before we fall apart. I'll bring the duct tape and you get the shoe string…_he _can chew the bubble gum though."

A smile, and they went out into barracks. Angeal banged a huge fist on the third door in their row.

"Genny-G! Open up bro, we gotta talk." But there was no answer for a long time. Angeal tried again.

"…Come on Genesis, I know you're in there, I heard you go in and Sephiroth saw you. If you're crying wipe it off and let us in."

Another long few moments of silence, and Angeal started to get agitated.

"…Look if you're wanking it in there, save it for later. I'm coming in…"

Angeal shoved his ID card into the key slot and spammed _zero_. The door flew open, and they froze.

They found him lying on the floor in a pool of blood. He'd slit his wrists. Sephiroth flew to the medical bay, watching his life flash before his eyes.

Within moments, everyone in the Unit stood behind caution tape around Genesis' room. A suicide in SOLDIER? It rocked everyone straight to their cores.

Angeal stood in absolute shock. To lose a father and a brother back to back, how would Angeal survive himself? Sephiroth took his hand, not even caring, holding it hard like Genesis used to. Together, they stood watching their family fall apart.

_They saved him. _By a thread, the medics were able to revive him. It was as if he'd flatlined and figured death wasn't for him. Perhaps the labcoats that came for his body in the medical bay played a role, perhaps the R&amp;D Department had a few tricks up their sleeve. All anyone knew was that Genesis went into that laboratory dead, he came out alive.

Angeal and Sephiroth thanked their father from beyond the grave with everything they were, elated to have their brother spared to them. But something about him was different…

From that day on, Genesis carried himself with a serrated edge. They'd had a brother who loved them, now they had one who went off on them, who sniped at them with the most vicious of personal comments, who _stole _from them.

The training room was their only solace. When they went in there to spar, it was like this mad nightmare had never happened. The song of swords was the most beautiful music that Sephiroth heard in his heart, driving him to level up even past Angeal. It was the only way to block out the encroaching pain of reality slamming like Fira bolts into his semblance of self.

Genesis never talked about his suicide attempt, the reasons behind it were elusive and shrouded in vitriol. Sephiroth found out when he finally confronted him, asking in sign language _why_. But Genesis no longer spoke to him in signs, he hadn't for a long time.

"I wanted to see the Goddess, and I have, she is beautiful. Her name is Latimeria, and she will dream of me."

He became obsessed with Loveless to a degree that put his earlier passion to a dark shame, recanting his poetic flourishes like sermons. Angeal and Sephiroth let him do it. Having a brother was better than having no brother at all. A religious movement with ties to Loveless was growing more popular by the day, and Genesis let himself be swept up in it like a flower in flames.

Sephiroth and Angeal didn't want to admit what they were in their own form of denial about. They'd lost their brother somewhere between drugs and a cult.

.

[Received Cursed Ring]


	38. Ch 35 - Visions of Hope and Despair Pt3

Zack sat in mottled shock, not even realizing he'd been crying. He ran a hand over his face, pain welling like barbed wire around his heart.

"How did you all survive? How did you get through?"

"…Angeal and I, we had each other."

"The R&amp;D Department did something to Genesis. They must have…"

Sephiroth sat in his own reserved silence, like a part of him would never stop mourning. Zack's heart sank as he leaned on his knees.

"Why do they do these things to people? Hard as it is to believe, it sounds like Genesis was a good person once…" Then the wrecking ball, the singular impact. "They did it to Angeal."

He sunk his face into his hands, fighting back choking sobs...he couldn't cry yet.

Sephiroth let him. He knew he should say something comforting, but it wasn't in his nature. Instead, he told him more of the agonizing truth. Zack deserved to know.

"You didn't know this about Shinra, but before you were born, the techniques developed by creating Angeal broke new ground in the field of insemination. Shinra patented the procedure as a fertility treatment. For test subjects, they targeted uneducated Native women who were desperate to have a child..."

Zack looked up, absorbing what Sephiroth told him, that in being part of SOLDIER, they might be enablers. But now the big man's brow furrowed in distress.

"How could anyone do that, bring a kid into this world and not take care of them? How could anyone have a child for the novelty? How could—"

"Hey! So, uh, tell me about this Masamune guy!"

Zack caught him from spiraling, the whirl in his eyes receding like low tide.

"He was Wutai's greatest warrior. A Dragon Knight. He turned every warrior who accosted him to his side. Only one man ever refused him…Angeal."

"Wow. He retained his honor. How'd he do it?"

"He said his father would be ashamed of him, and he was spared. There was honor on both sides of that savage war."

"Did he ever find out that wasn't his real father?"

"…I'm sure that played a major role in why he killed himself."

The barbed wire cinched tighter around Zack's heart, a cranial slump in his core taking him outside of his body. As Zack struggled, Sephiroth relaxed. He knew how to break the spell.

"Let's get off this topic, onto _lighter_ subjects. How are things with you and your girlfriend?"

Zack's short attention span was _easily_ diverted. He pursed his lips at the mention of another subject.

"…Good…Great…Peachy…"

"You're welcome to vent...I sense frustration."

_Good God_, even the 1sts knew about his issues! That damn rumor mill. Zack groaned back against the chair.

"Ah, you know, it's hard. I'm her first boyfriend but she's not my first girlfriend. Her mom is so old fashioned, got it in her head that I'm only after one thing. Honestly, it'll be better once we move in together and start _having _sex…but right now it's just picking cherry blossoms, _ya kno?"_

"Have you ever tried?" Sephiroth asked.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, we did once right before I deployed..." Something he thought he should add. "…It was her first time."

Sephiroth was flattered that Zack would open up to him like this. There was a way to see how deep his trust went.

"How was it?"

Zack fell quiet as he slipped back into blue reminiscence. The lulling look in his soft eyes drifted from the ceiling to the floor, remembering calm sensations that validated his existence.

"…Spiritual."

Sephiroth smiled. Wow, Zack really trusted him.

"That's good. You'll last, now that you know you're compatible."

Zack shrugged. "What about you? Were you ever married, Sephiroth?"

"No, thankfully. And I don't plan on it."

Zack pricked up, cupping a mocking hand against his ear.

"Wait, what's that noise? Listen…It's the sound of 2 million fangirls crying at once." Sephiroth laughed as Zack sassed him. "C'mon Mr. Two-Million-Fans. Don't tell me you never took advantage of it."

Dark eyes turned downward, Sephiroth held his composure, _for a minute_. He fought a wry grin that curled at the corners of his mouth.

"Ahh, I knew it!" Zack pointed a wagging finger. _Busted!_

"People's fantasies are out of my control, I've found that _fans _seldom know what they want. I am not concerned with conquest, nor am I impressed by men who have sullied themselves to attain it. Before my current relationship, there was only one, just one…my first."

Zack sat up now, his full attention trained on the man who gazed at a spot on the table. His eyes were far away, a reminiscent flurry shrouded behind cerulean storms. With visions swirling in his neon irises, Zack let him go for a long while before he spoke.

"What was her name?"

"…"

* * *

Angeal and Sephiroth followed Genesis through some godforsaken corner of the Slums. They reached a converted warehouse with neon signage and a gate guard—a man with a canon for an arm.

Inside was a gutterpunk skin fest, scantily clad women bearing their hindquarters on stage. Genesis ditched his brothers in a minute, following girls with red-ringed irises upstairs.

Angeal and Sephiroth found a place to sit by the stage as if waiting at a doctor's office, zoning out like they didn't care either way. Angeal, the riot of the party, the kind of guy who would jump into a barroom brawl with his friends just to say he was there, now a pacified cow. As dancing girls commanded eyes to their call, it was the lone pair of eyes that _disobeyed_ which attracted her.

She flowed across the stage in a camouflage g-string, black combat boots advertising to her preferred clientele. With strawberry-blonde hair tied in a side-pony tail and Aryan blue eyes, she strode in a slow, seductive line to the edge of the stage…where a boy with a braid looked up through downturned brows.

"Hi. What's your name?" she asked with a soft grin.

"Sephiroth," he replied with a stone glare.

"Ooh, an _exotic_ name. What's it mean?"

"It means Seraphim."

"And what does that mean?"

"_Hmphf." _An idiot, just like everyone else. She kneeled at the edge of the stage, her body accentuated in a flowing "S" curve.

"Oh don't feel so glum, SOLDIER. So you got dragged here by a douchebag friend. Doesn't have to be a complete loss of a night."

"I don't have any money. My friend has the card."

"We know him here. I'll charge it to his account."

Sephiroth tugged his older brother's sleeve.

"_What should I do?" _he signed. Angeal let out a long sigh.

"Whatever you want."

_"__I want to leave. What are we even doing here?"_

Angeal stared out into nowhere.

"Exercising our honor, and part of honor is respecting yourself and your fellow man. The opposite of honor is sex. You'll never be able to square the two. It doesn't mean it's bad, just the antithesis. To abstain from those things that most are too weak to abstain from, and be sober in the things most people can't enjoy without excess, that's the mark of an invincible soul. Marcus Aurelius."

Sephiroth cocked an eyebrow. His brother wasn't himself by a longshot. "You're going to be dead by the time you're 40, Angeal."

"Hah, we'll see."

"So what should I do?"

"It's up to you. I can't choose for you. You'd be taking on _my _ideals of honor."

All this as she sat listening. She was used to being treated like she wasn't there. Her soft knowing eyes peered down on him.

"What does your heart say, _Sephiroth_?"

A long moment of stillness lingered between them. She flowed off the stage and took his hand. She lead him away from the table, toward the stairs where he'd seen Genesis go, leaving Angeal with a long stare like he was just along for the ride.

Sephiroth followed his escort up to the second floor, where doors ajar showed parties of people engaged in acts he averted his eyes from. She took him to the last door against the railing, a sliding door that had no lock…dangerous. Inside was dark and cramped as a closet, stuffy and sticky. He saw a razorblade on a glass table. He should have walked out right there.

Her eyes shifted to a leering look of hunger, the flash of dark play.

"I'm glad you came up here. You have no idea what you're in for." She put his fingers in her mouth. He pulled them right back out. "Or maybe you do, and you're not easily impressed. I'm game."

She led those fingers down her g-string. He felt the wax of pubic hair for a split second before turning to leave.

"I need to wash my hands."

But the rush of a lithe body leapt in front of him, arms around his neck, lips swept up against his in desperation. He froze.

Her soft kiss, his first kiss, entranced him in hypnotic illusion. The rush of blood to his head sent his heartrate sky high as she pulled away in a delicate whisper.

"You like that, don't you…" His eyes remained closed against her sweet breath, long fingers weaving through his silver bangs to slide across his cheek. She turned his head to see the implant imbedded in his ear.

She undressed in a practiced sweep, and he felt the warm flush of feminine skin against his pale form for the first time. Laying into him on the crumpled grey sheets of her twin bed, she took him into herself, paralyzing him in mind-whirling lust that brought him to the sky and back down to climax. When it was over, he clung to her like a child. 18 was the year Sephiroth learned what it meant to grow up.

Two weeks went by and he couldn't stop thinking about her. He dreamed up elaborate, over-the-top fantasies about rescuing her, impressing her…being her hero. He knew the way back there, maybe…No. Out of the question. But when his paycheck cleared, he cashed it.

What was he doing back here? This place was disgusting!

Her door was the last one down the hall across from the railing, he stood in front of it fidgeting as she opened up.

"Sephiroth!" She remembered him. "I was just thinking about you. Come in."

Sure. She was thinking about him. Even his naïve heart didn't buy that. But she _did _remember his name.

She brought him in and shut the door. Another look at the glass coffee table, no razor blade this time, maybe there never had been one. Her clothes were indiscriminately littered across the floor, covered in the smell of cigarettes and vomit. This would shape his view of Materialism later in life.

She leaned against the wall studying his silence. This big SOLDIER was still a little boy inside, nowhere near a man.

"So listen, I understand you sentimental virgin types. I know how you like it, and it takes a lot out of me. It's going to cost triple."

Sephiroth shifted, eyes still on the floor.

"…I have it."

"Are you sure? If you're short here you could get hurt, and I don't want that for you. I'll still be here another day." He didn't want to come another day. His single nod let her know.

"Okay…" she whispered, and took his hand, leading him into the abyss, back onto that familiar mattress, underneath billowing covers that shielded their act in sanctity. She taught him a sexual embrace that was akin only to music or prayer.

He came as often as he could get away, staggering the days to the next pay period. She blocked out an hour before he came and an hour after, so he wouldn't have to see her other _clients._

Catching a glimpse at her empty mini-fridge, a thought occurred to him that maybe all his money wasn't going to her. He wanted to deposit it into a private account. She went straight pale as he was, saying "they" would never spring for it.

"Tell them I'll kill you. Give them my name."

To her surprise, it worked.

A problem in payroll came up, Sephiroth's check would be delayed five days…he freaked, leaving the payroll secretaries in tears.

Now broke, he couldn't wait five days. He'd die if he waited even a few. Desperate, he did the one thing he didn't want to do…he asked Angeal.

This was hard for him, this was hell. He was supplanting his own honor in front of the person who taught it to him. Angeal heard him out, and much to his surprise, he agreed.

"I will do this for you. _Once_. Because I know what it's like to love someone who doesn't love you."

Genesis, however, saw himself as more _brotherly_ when he stepped in, though it was none of his business.

"Addiction is a terrible vice. Believe me, I would know. However, it seems you have developed your own _habit."_

Genesis leaned against the wall in SOLDIER wing with a smug look that made Sephiroth tense. A smart smile, like he had one up on his little brother. Genesis' aura was now very repelling, but Sephiroth smirked back this time.

_Jealous?_

Genesis felt that little gripe, checking his nails with a palm-up flash.

"She sets time aside for you, fancies your poetic flourishes, says that you're _special_. She doesn't do that for anyone else, right?" Sephiroth froze, a dark veil falling over his eyes. "I've had her, you know. Dirty little thing, she let me put it in her—"

A fist slammed into his face, throwing him to the floor. The look of wild shock on both their faces was drowned out by Sephiroth's aggressive step forward. Genesis' lip was bleeding.

"Oh, will you look at that, I'm feeling faint. Looks like you'll have to drag me kicking and screaming to the medical bay where it'll take _forever_ to get seen. I hear the new filing system is a tad backlogged."

Sephiroth glared, and stepped over him. He could drag himself to medical. If he passed out on the way there, maybe the R&amp;D Department would revive him again, snap some other personality back into him.

Genesis pulled himself up against the wall as Sephiroth stormed away.

"She's not your woman, Sephiroth!" But he didn't look back at Genesis, who held a sleeve to his lip. "Your problem isn't that you don't hear, it's that you don't listen!"

Leaving Genesis behind to stand giddy in front of her door, he knocked his own code for her. But she opened up without a smile.

"Not today, Sephiroth."

The door slammed shut. He coughed. Knocking again, she came out in a rage.

"I said not today! I'm taking a day off."

He pushed past her and froze. Derms of Dancer laid spread out on the glass table.

"Why don't you understand!" she yelled. "I need time to myself, I need time away from my clients!"

Now they both froze. Was that all he was? A _client_? Bile rose in his throat.

"Have you been with my brother?"

Her eyes flew wide.

"Get out! I'm dropping you as a client. You're falling in love and this is my job."

"Why do you do this? I give you enough money to buy a house and you're still here with an empty fridge."

"Sephiroth, you swear like I spend your money on _food_." It wasn't enough for him, so she grabbed her coat off the wall. "You want to know _why_?...I'll show you. Take me on a date Sephiroth. I want to see the sky."

The train ride up to the Plate was the first time they'd gone outside together. They got off at Sector 7 and headed for the boardwalk. Sephiroth caught eyes trained on them.

"What's the matter? Afraid to be seen with me?" she asked in slitting sardonicism.

They leaned on the railing over the reservoir, watching volleyball players and sunbathers on a beach with no waves. Her shoulder touched his as she eyed girls in string bikinis fawning over older men.

"You know, it might have been me on that beach, with my expensive sunglasses and trust fund, chatting up bajillionaires just to make daddy angry. Instead…I'm _for sale_. Was it something I did? Did I kill a few people in a past life? Am I really so much worse than any other girl in this city? Am I really so different?"

The girls cajoled around expensive men, and lesser humans looked on from afar. She gazed at him with old eyes, tired lids that beguiled her true age.

"Everything we hear is not fact, but opinion. Everything we see is not truth, but perspective."

When she looked away, he caught the flash of tears. His fingertips turned her face toward him, but she wouldn't let him kiss her. He didn't mind. It let him know the truth…he _was _special.

She turned back to the station with a dismissive grunt.

"Take me home, Sephiroth, but excuse me if I don't invite you in. I don't sleep with a guy on the first date."

He gave her space, staying away as long as he could. When he went back to her, she was the one who wrapped him up in a hug, who whispered that she missed him.

Solace in the arms of his girl, somnolent waves of tingling energy assuring him everything was right. She wanted to do something new tonight, she wanted to unbraid his hair. He refused, he wasn't ready, but two fingers on his lips halted his racing thoughts.

Her hands untying the bind, his body shaking as she interlaced her fingers through loops of hair all the way up to his face, fanning it out with a gasp. As silver iridescence gleaned off tresses of starlight, she draped it around herself like angels' wings, flowing stratus cascading around her shoulders in sable softness against him.

His hair was a sensory organ, the cognitive processing parts of his brain overcompensating for his lack of auditory functioning. He kept it bound to ward off the overstimulating rush of the world. Now, trembling against her cheek, with her slender fingers weaving their way through long strands of silver, he cried.

He could only take so much. She watched him bind it back with expert fingers weaving behind his head. Who'd shown him how to do this?

When his orders came in, he almost died.

She opened the door confused. It wasn't his normal day, or his normal time.

"I'm deploying."

The world held still on its axis for a solid minute. So this was it, one last hurrah. She shrugged.

"…I've got the time if you've got the money."

"I don't have any money."

"What's wrong?"

She pulled him inside and he wrapped her up in a hug so hard that she could feel him shaking.

"What's the matter? I'll still be waiting here when you get back."

Holding her out to arm's length, he looked her dead in the eyes. A deep breath, a long gaze…

"…Look, I don't have much money, but I can afford an apartment…" Oh no, she knew where this was going. "If we got married, I could put you on my health insurance. If we—"

"—Please stop."

"Please! Let me take care of you!" The sheer intensity of his powerful voice surprised even him. He was doing this all wrong. He shuffled down onto a knee, awkward, not quite sure how this was supposed to go.

"I don't have a ring now, but with the hazard pay this deployment will bring, I can get you ten of them…if you'll wait for me."

A booming knock at the door pulled her gaze away. It was someone else's time slot. Sephiroth's hard eyes bore up at her, pleading three words that remained unspoken between them. For a long time she gazed back into those cerulean galaxies, and turned to the door.

"Don't do this!" He leapt before her. "Come with me. Right now. We'll make it work. We'll make us work. I can provide, I can protect you, I can make you happy."

But she brushed his face with the soft tips of chipped fingernails.

"Oh Sephiroth, if only I had a gil for every time I heard that."

She kissed him like the world was coming to an end, sending soft fire shooting up and down his legs. The most passionate and intense kiss she'd ever given him, her body pressing flush into his, driving him back toward the door…where she opened it and pushed him out.

He fell against the railing, and saw _him_, her John, swaggering in a dirty trench coat to her room. Her eyes fell on Sephiroth for a swift moment, a conclusion.

Something snapped in him, a primordial rage so malignant and explosive sent his mental clarity to the backburner. His girl…another man…now. He yanked that guy out of that room so hard he slammed against the stairwell, fists smashing to face in a bloody bash-fest.

She screamed, cries lost on him as he painted the stairs red in slow-motion splatter art. The guy flared his enormous bulk, lifted Sephiroth from the ground and threw him over the railing. He slammed down to the floor where dozens of men leapt up with nunchucks and lead pipes. Sephiroth shot to his feet, hand on his daikatana ready to introduce himself to the criminal underworld.

But someone stopped the party. Rushing in from the back door, the man with the arm-canon aimed straight at Sephiroth.

A flash from the canon sent Sephiroth flying back out the front door, toppling across the ground like a discarded rag-doll. The door slammed shut, and he was barred from that world forever. He stood up with whirling eyes, unable to comprehend the sheer finality that had crashed into him like a sledgehammer.

What. Just. Happened?

One minute she was his entire life, and the next he was out on a dirt street shaking. The shock razed his psyche like a daikatana, throwing his mind through a meat-grinder. The rest of his body went numb.

He didn't remember staggering toward the emporium across the street. At the counter, he asked for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. What kind? It didn't matter.

"Smoking's a bad habit to pick up, especially in this economy," said the store clerk.

Sephiroth didn't care, so the clerk sold him a pack of Djarum Black's—the most expensive brand—and a chrome zippo. He paid in a daze and strode in robotic linearity back toward the warehouse, some other preprogrammed layer of ghost-coding taking over in his overheating mental partition.

Unfortunately for the brothel, it was built smack over an above-ground Mako pipeline. Sephiroth walked along punching holes in the pipe with his daikatana. Green liquid shot out like lawn sprinklers all the way down to a fenced-off syphon tank with so many caution signs it would take a clinically insane cyborg to miss the message. Sephiroth kicked the gate open.

He stood over the Mako-filled sump pit, pulled a smoke out of the pack with his teeth and struck a light on the zippo. But he stopped. Smoking really was a dirty habit. He flicked the cigarette away, and flicked the lighter into the Mako.

It went up like Napalm.

The pipe torched all along the puncture sites, rushing in a ramshackle barrage of flame like a shooting laser streaking straight for the warehouse. The brothel exploded in fiery hegemonic mayhem.

Sephiroth stood on the street corner as aural flames danced like snake-charmers around him, burning now in bloodcurdling screams that reached to the plasteel dome of the Plate and dissipated—all above would never hear their cries. He watched with a furrowed brow, shaking with angry tears in his eyes as he broke his promise to never hurt her. No one would ever know, no one cared about a burned out drug ring full of kingpins and murderers…and one young girl who would never love again.

* * *

The boy with the silver braid faded back to the man who now sat before Zack, staring down at the same place on the table. As Zack gazed with wide eyes, Sephiroth met him with a look of austere premonition.

"I have lost my honor, Zack. I exist in a state of cognitive dissonance and that is why I am able to be the best. Regardless of what you've been lead to believe about me, I am not a good man, and honor is not my virtue. I know this will be hard for you to accept since you were Angeal's student, but I'm not looking to get it back."

Zack sat in silence, battling his inner turmoil with all the philosophical prowess Angeal had taught him. He looked up at Sephiroth like he had some answer to a grand question, the larger scheme of things becoming clear.

"But you do these things for other people, for your fellow SOLDIER's, for us. If it's uncomfortable for you and you do it anyway for the ones you care about, then that's honor. You haven't lost anything, and there's nothing to regain."

"Are you saying what I did was right?"

"I'm saying that sometimes being honorable means doing all the wrong things in all the right ways."

Naïve Zack, he was doing this for himself. He needed to see Sephiroth in the light, to know that the people he chose to trust were good people who wouldn't hurt him. Sephiroth let him do it, kids were entitled to make themselves safe.

With a warm gaze trained on the boy who wrestled to give him back something that didn't exist, he shot him a small grin.

"Perhaps it's all a matter of perspective."

.

[Received Genji Glove]


	39. Ch 36 - Visions of Light and Darkness P1

"What do you and Sephiroth talk about until 3AM every morning?" the other SOLDIER asked Zack as they patrolled through town.

"Oh, you know, our conversations carry across a _wide _range of _deep _topics and tend to be very _long-_winded."

"Aw gross! Are you guys talking about the horizontal hora?"

"I'm talking about philosophy, you sick freak!"

"Jeez, talking philosophy is how straight dudes have sex."

"Well, what can I say? Out here you gotta take what you can get."

Sephiroth laughed when Zack told him that, full and bright. He'd been off his meds for a while now, and his personality came out with the full color spectrum. He was the most dead-pan guy on the face of the planet, and his dry humor had Zack in stitches. Wow, Sephiroth, able to act like a human being for the first time since he was Zack's age.

"So can you turn the volume up on that thing in your ear?" asked Zack, brimming with enthusiasm.

"I can adjust the levels to where I can hear a pin drop from the other side of town, but why would I want to?"

Zack's eyes popped out of their sockets.

"Are you kidding me?! Crank that thing up!"

"And make my ears bleed when you squawk like that into them?"

"I'll be _really quiet, I promise," _he whispered. Sephiroth didn't buy it. "_C'mon I swear it'll be great c'mon!"_

The big man rolled his eyes and turned the implant up. A moment of silence before…

"...Few people…three houses down…having a party…"

Zack cocked an ear out the cracked window.

"…_What are they doing_?"

"...Double-penetration."

"NO WAY!"

Sephiroth lurched back, audio feedback screeching in his ear. He almost backhanded the idiot sitting across from him while Zack turtled up with a sheepish grin. _Sorry!_

_"Rrrrgg_, no wonder Angeal was a raving mess when he first started training you," Sephiroth groaned, resetting his implant.

"Aw what? No way, Angeal loved me!"

"Indeed, but all of his off-hours during that first six months where spent with me at the bar getting wasted on scotch. He was great with dogs but he was _this close _to putting you in a shock collar."

"Hehehe," Zack chuckled.

"However, I will admit that I got endless satisfaction out of throwing his lectures back at him. _But oh, Angeal, remember patience and honor…_he took a shot for each."

"Haha. Well did you click right away with your student?"

"God no. Two Scorpios together? I'm surprised the whole world didn't hear our shouting matches."

"Angeal said he used to talk to her. He wanted to know if anything he said _got through _to her. Maybe you know what he meant?"

"Of course. Angeal used to take her out on missions when I was deployed, _without _my permission. Probably because of his daughter, he had a soft spot. Before you were his puppy, believe me, she was his kitten."

"Aww, he messed with her too! How cute."

"How annoying. I didn't hear the end of it for months. _But Sensei, what about dreams and honor?_ I was stuck with Angeal's lectures playing like a broken record. You want to know if what he said got through to her? It _ruined _her!"

"Hahaha!"

"You laugh, until you have to live with her. She is insufferable."

"Well are you happy with her?" Zack asked, to which Sephiroth sighed in defeat.

"I most definitely am. Despite our differences she is one of the few people in life who makes me happy. But trust me, a field of roses seems appealing until you have to walk through it _barefoot_." Sephiroth let his head loll back with a groan.

"Hehe, I'll bet. How'd you guys meet anyway?"

"Probably the best way to meet anyone…while attempting to piss off my boss."

* * *

"Take a student, Sephiroth," Lazard leered at his ghastly harbinger. Sephiroth leaned against the wall of his office with that signature defiant glare.

"And where might I take them?" he asked with eyes peeled to smart slits.

"Under your wing. Angeal has already expressed his own intent to take an apprentice. It would be a good idea for the other Firsts to follow suite, widen the experience pool."

"I don't swim."

Lazard leaned back in his chair. The key to dealing with Sephiroth was patience and using his own weapons against him—a certain level of selective hearing.

"Rufus Shinra's son is set to join SOLDIER next month. I think you and he would be an ideal pairing."

"I'll kill him."

"Sepiroth," Lazard leaned _forward _in his chair now. "I do not put it past you to murder, but I doubt your conviction to actually slaughter royalty."

"No…but maybe I'll take him out on a mission that's a little too hard and lose track of him for a moment."

"Then choose your own student, or I will choose for you." The phone rang, Lazard answered it on speaker. "Yes Delly…"

_"Sir, Command wants to know if you've assigned an operator to the cued mission yet."_

"No I haven't gotten around to…Actually, yes, I have assigned someone. I'll send over their ID confirmation ASAP." He clicked on that line and dialed the Personnel officer. "Send the SOLDIER with the boobs up to my office."

Sephiroth didn't bat an eyelash. All SOLDIER's got stuck with stupid nicknames in the unit. Sephiroth had been _the deaf-mute,_ Angeal had been the lug-head, Genesis had been the flamer, and a few years later a SOLDIER named Zack would get stuck with "the puppy" and hate life like he was the only one with a pet-name.

Sephiroth suffered through Lazard laying out his details for 1sts' trainees while listening to Gregorian Chant in his head, drowning out his boss' grating voice. When a young 3rd Class rookie walked into the office with _actual _mosquito-bite breasts, Sephiroth's eyebrows flew to the ceiling.

_Well this is new_.

A slight teenaged girl with serrated lilac hair clicked her heels together in full parade-salute at Lazard's desk. Her eyes had caught Sephiroth sidelong, the legendary 1st Class hero. She was shaking in her boots, standing so tall and formal that her back almost arched. A young tryhard, they were all like that when they first joined up. She'd get over it in about a month.

Lazard meanwhile leaned back in his chair like he was about to eat dinner.

"An outbreak has occurred over Kalm. I've decided to send you. You will go and neutralize the air around the hotzone."

Talk about vague instructions, even Sephiroth wasn't quite sure what he wanted. His reply to Lazard would have been along the lines of _shall I bring Fabreez as well? Do I look like a cleaning lady? _Instead, she stood there in absolute compliance for a long moment before working up the nerve to talk.

"Um…Permission to speak, Sir?"

"Granted."

"…Could I have some more clarification as to the details of my role in this mission?"

Lazard shot her a confused look.

"I thought that you would display more _composure_ in regards to this basic matter."

"…Sir?"

"A good SOLDIER should always keep in mind _Situational Awareness, _assessing a situation as it comes up."

"Yessir, but I…"

"That's enough. I'll give the mission to someone else more qualified. You are not composed enough to trust with this detail."

She froze, like a gut punch straight to her solar plexus.

"…Yessir."

"Dismissed," he waved her off, and it was final.

She stood there for a moment in silence, shock welling up in her core like a cold spire of ice. Her vision blurred over with tears that she fought through hell and high water to hold back, still very aware of the most decorated war hero that she'd just made a fool out of herself in front of. Gathering herself, with the few shreds of honor she'd been given in her life, she saluted the man who had torn her to bits, did a full parade turn-about and walked from the office as fast as she could without running.

She caught the big man standing up off the wall, flowing to the center of the room to watch her go, probably reveling in her pathetic state as much as her boss had been.

Meanwhile, Sephiroth stood with a laserbeam gaze, eyes fixed on the lone anomaly who had appeared on the radar for a split second and disappeared. Lazard had brought her up there just to humiliate her in front of him.

"Who is she?" he asked as Lazard spat in the wake of her departure.

"A _diversity hire_, of no consequence, someone the Civil Rights Commission shoved in here to tell me how to run my department—barely completed A-School at the bottom of her class."

"…Because no one helped her."

"Hey! I'll have none of that! She doesn't get any _special treatment! _She goes through it just like everyone else! Besides, she won't be here much longer."

But Sephiroth wasn't born yesterday. He knew how A-School worked. Candidates got through by grouping up, organizing into cliques of friends who helped each other through training missions. To go it alone was suicide. Teams would protect each other while stragglers who weren't team players or had poor attitudes were weeded out by natural selection. This worked well for people who fit the typecast…this was only the second time someone had come through the grinder who _didn't_. Some way, somehow, she'd clawed her way through Selection, alone and without help, while others barely managed to scrape by with support from the entire class.

Sephiroth's interest was piqued. He valued the person who was ceded to fail and didn't over the person who was ceded to succeed and did.

"Lazard, I've reconsidered your order of apprenticeship. You can mark me down as spoken for."

"NO! I'll never approve it! Sephiroth, if you walk out of this office you're fired!"

But Sephiroth was already out in the hallway…he'd turned his implant off.

She trotted toward the elevator in tears, tripping over her own feet and adjusting her slipping pauldrons over her baggy boy's SOLDIER uniform. Turning the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks…_He_ stood before her like a monolithic wall.

"At Attention," he commanded in a subtle tone. She shot straight like a drill instructor had hit her with a 2x4. Her eyes zoomed out of focus as he walked around her, scanning, examining. She had low muscle tone from poor nutrition. Some people needed special diets while others could grow massive off garbage. But her shoulders were wider than her feet. Very good. It gave them a good base to build off of. One con, her hips were a little wider than her torso—there was obviously nothing she could do about that—it meant they'd have to overcompensate. He had no qualms. If a 115lb deaf boy could do it, then a 130lb girl should have no problem.

Standing back in front of her, he grabbed her shoulder hard, making her wince. Hard-packed white-muscle, the useful kind, she was a fast runner. This was going to be _fun_.

"Meet me in the training room at 0600 sharp tomorrow."

He walked away, and the rest was history.

* * *

"God, what a jerk!" Zack spat. "She's got more bearing than either of us. I'd have broken his door on my way out!"

"I believe that's why he had blast-proof glass installed in his office. The 1sts have a _time-honored tradition _of vendettas against it."

"So how come I don't see her around more often? Why doesn't she hang out in SOLDIER wing?"

"She said she had a bad experience once, said they were _mean_ to her."

Zack cocked an eyebrow at that. She seemed like the type who would be used to guyish ribbing. "Like how? Was it just guys being douchebags? Everyone in SOLDIER is like that to everyone."

"Well she told me once while incessantly sobbing into my shoulder, so it sounded like a bunch of garbled nothing, but I'm becoming fluent enough in _incoherent crying _to gather that it shook her quite a bit."

"What happened?"

* * *

All she wanted was to be one of them, to be the same, to have brothers. But as she walked through the cafeteria on her first lunch hour in the unit, and no one dared raise a sword strap to make her run _The Gauntlet _like all rookies had to, the harsh reality slammed her in the gut like an Equal Opportunity lawsuit…she was not the same.

She was given explicit instructions to use only one bathroom at the far end of the wing. No one else was allowed to use that bathroom. If she used any other bathroom she would be fired as would any other members who used her bathroom. Why was everyone paying so much attention to the bathroom?

An entire medical unit had been set up for her, with a gynecologist and all female doctors…she wasn't comfortable around other women. It made her cringe to know that the boys had to wait months for medical appointments while she could waltz right in. An entire storage room was supplied with everything for her feminine hygiene needs; she could get her own tampons, really she could.

What killed her more than anything was barracks. That was where SOLDIER's went to hang out and make friends after hours. She wasn't allowed up there. Now the pinup girls had been ripped off the clean white walls and plastered over with sexual harassment posters, anonymous tip lines and pamphlet distributor boxes on "safe sex." She felt like more of an object than when she'd run away from the boarding school in Concordia. A big spotlight followed her wherever she went, preventing her from blending in, pushing everyone away from her. _One of Us, All of Us, _except for her.

They housed her in a motel room off-site. She cried thinking of what other SOLDIER's had to go through to get their own rooms. Why couldn't they room her with one of the boys? It's not like they would _do _anything. They'd be way too nervous! If overhead really wanted to make sure nothing happened, room her with two of them, no one would even speak to each other!

Alas, every morning she walked ten blocks to work while other SOLDIER's walked ten steps. She received glares from the girls at the reception counter while other boys got smiles, and she ate alone at a table in the corner while everyone ate with their friends; their _brothers._

She knew she couldn't go on forever an outcast, she had to get out there somehow. She worked up the nerve when she saw a group of 3rds gearing up to go on a mission. Deep breath…

"Um, hey," she smiled.

"Hey," a boy nodded like she was a stranger.

"Do you guys need an extra sword?"

"Uh, you wanna come with us?"

"Yeah."

He shrugged. "Hold on lemme ask my Squaddie…HEY, can this guy come with us?"

Uh-oh_, _her stomach leapt into her throat, _they thought she was a boy. _She was more androgynous when she was younger, and she wasn't even the only one in the unit with lilac hair, one of many traits she was born with and didn't have a say in.

The boy turned back to her with a nod. "Yeah sure. What's your name small-fry?"

"Uh…that works."

"Smalls? Okay, Smalls is on my team!"

It was one of the better nicknames she's heard people ending up with in the unit.

They headed out to do some leveling near the Wastelands. She was so nervous about having to go to the bathroom in the field, but her bladder didn't let her down that day. They grouped up in a party-line taking turns on an Armadillo Monster. She put all her strength into doing as much damage as possible, using all her Ability Points early and running through Soma refills like she was made of money to buy more. EXP got distributed equally, and if she didn't earn hers, they'd get pissed.

They came across a small green _plant-type-pokemon_, a boppity little cactaur! Guys laughed, throwing rocks like it was a Pomeranian. Now was her chance, she could impress them! She leapt to the head of the party and threw up a glowing orb, calling forth a megalithic atomic flare beam from her Summon that cast down in a fiery white apocalypse.

_Talk about overkill._

The cactaur dropped like a stuffed animal with x's for eyes and all the EXP went to her!...which was like 4 points.

When she turned with an ear-to-ear smile, she saw all of her party shaking behind a tree. They popped their heads out with wide eyes.

_"OH MY GOOHHD this guy's insane!" _and they ran over picking her up, jumping around and parading her like she was a hero.

_They like me!_

On the way back to HQ, they were all bonded and bro'd up, taking pot-shots at each other like siblings. Someone for some bizarre reason was talking about the Ice Capades.

"Your face is an Ice Capade!"

But she threw a shy smirk from underneath shard lilac bangs.

"_Tsh_, your mom is an Ice Capade."

_"OHHHHH!" _everyone pointed at the kid she'd owned, and the guy she stood up for wrapped an arm around her shoulder. _Brothers._

They followed each other into the lockerroom. _Oh boy, _go big or go home. She followed them.

They messed around while changing, having Axe fights with spray cans and snapping each other with rolled tshirts. One guy pantsed another boy _undies and all_! She leaned against some lockers with eyes on the ground, hands in pockets playing it cool. When they laughed, she laughed, looking at their faces as they stripped naked like it was nothing. The trick was to look into their eyes. She kicked back in a cool pose, getting away with murder until someone cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Hey, where's your locker man?"

_Oh shoot…think, think…_

"Uhhhh…I don't have one."

"What? Why not?"

She shrugged. "They didn't give me one."

"What the hell? They're supposed to give you one on the first day!"

"…They're jerks."

"No kidding. Well we're going to grab a bite. Where are your civvies?"

"Um, dirty. I'll go in uniform."

"Aight, suit yourself."

One kid bopped around in his birthday suit _ball-tapping _his friends. They shoved him around like a pin-ball machine. She didn't see him coming and walked right into his attack, turning his ball-tap into a _ball-punch_.

"Oh gosh I'm SO SORRY MAN!...wait…"

When she didn't _drop to the ground in agony_, everyone stopped what they were doing. All eyes flew to her, a moment of sheer silence like the whole world stopped spinning. Everyone froze in place.

Their eyes met hers, her eyes met theirs, and all at once they _burst out laughing_! They laughed slow at first, like they couldn't believe it. One of their own was still standing stark naked! As their cackles intensified to mad moans of hilarity, she felt the weight of the world slam right into her psyche. Everything she thought she had, yanked away.

She ran.

She fled back to her motel room with hot tears in her eyes, tearing her mattress off the frame and propping it against the wall. Then she wailed her fists on it, slamming her body into it, throwing everything she had as a human being at the spring-recoiled cushion so she wouldn't damage the room and lose her deposit. Nothing was fair, nothing was real. She felt like even she wasn't real…an object of ridicule.

Sinking down onto the floor, she sobbed in angry bursts.

_One of Us, All of Us, _except for her.

.

[Received Lightning Armlet]


	40. Ch 36 - Visions of Light and Darkness P2

"WHHHYYYY is she hanging out with the _thirdies?_" Zack cringed. "Aaarg, they're idiots! That's why we make fun of them! She should be hanging out with me and my friends. We'd totally be bro with her."

"Though I've tried explaining to her that _changing _is not a team sport, she's afraid you'll exclude her."

"Oh hell no, we change next to a _gay guy_—no homo—and we don't even care! If she wants to get naked in our lockerroom and watch us all salute her, she's more than welcome to."

Sephiroth growled deep in his throat, flashing a flat dead-pan glare. "_Whatever makes her happy."_

Oh man, and Zack thought _he _had relationship issues!

"I've gotta be honest, I think she's the coolest person I've never met," Zack admitted.

"She'll be happy to know that. However, she won't believe it coming from me."

"Man. I'd tell her myself, but she hates me," Zack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in disappointment.

Sephiroth started laughing, slow and building, like it was the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard in his life.

* * *

Sephiroth's student stood at Attention in the frosted-glass conference room in SOLDIER wing, listening with tunnel-vision as her mentor briefed her on her next mission. It was stupid-hard, but she could handle it.

Sephiroth had recommended her for 1st Class years ago, but Lazard had wanted a blow job from both of them first. So they'd have to double-time it, power-level her as high as she could go, supermax her stats, get the press involved if they had to. They needed to take away every excuse he had not to promote her, and Sephiroth was right there with her, taking every jab at her as a jab at himself. A great mentor.

Now they stood facing each other in the utmost seriousness. This mission would be dangerous. If she screwed up there was a good chance she would not be coming home alive. She had to focus. Her mind flipped into survival mode, as was her virtue. Drop her off in any city in the world and she'd somehow find her way back to Shinra in three days. The story was that the Turks had wanted her, but she was a loose-cannon and absolutely would not tolerate other girls…so they sent her to SOLDIER.

"Do you understand?" Sephiroth bore into her hard eyes.

"Yes Sensei."

"You have the right to refuse risk."

"I accept the mission."

He nodded. "Good luck."

She saluted him, did a parade-rest turnabout and strode from the office. This was it, the real deal. It was time to show Command what she was made of, why she'd joined SOLDIER. She didn't want to be a hero, she wanted to be the best. Her laserbeam gaze bore into the ground as she flew into mental-notes, visual blueprints playing before her eyes, planning her attack, mind-mapping her route, her strategy, it had to be perfect—

"Hiya! I'm Zack Fair, SOLDIER 2nd Cl—"

She looked up at him still in the zone, and he _flew back against the wall_.

What? Why? He'd seen her for two seconds and thought she was a freak? Why did they all do that!

She rushed on? She couldn't _speak to him_, introduce herself and stutter for a full five minutes trying to get her head out of combat-mode and ramble about how she wasn't a mutant and was just like everyone else. She'd get a blank stare and send him running like they all did.

She turned the corner, her back against the wall, letting her head fall against the hard surface with a thud. Her mentor found her like that in a state of flustered frustration.

"I can't do the mission," she sighed.

"It's not a problem. I'll admit though, I exaggerated the difficulty to see if you'd still bite. Is there nothing you fear?"

She stared off into the ceiling.

"You know, you think you get used to it. Like you've been doing something long enough that it becomes no big deal and people will get over it. But every time they judge, it still all comes crashing back. He's never been picked on in his life and he thinks he has the right to give me the look up-and-down! Like fight me, man, then run your mouth! Fine, judge me, I don't care anymore, but at least _speak to me_! Say it to my face, god dammit! I just…You don't even have your implant on…"

Sephiroth touched his ear with an index finger, and she slumped.

"Now, would you mind telling me _not _in female-speak what exactly is bothering you?"

A long silence. That laserbeam focus in her eyes faded in time to what it really was—a kid's grumpy-face.

"…he could have at least finished saying hi…Where are you going?"

Sephiroth shot her a look like it was obvious. "To go get him."

"NO!" She threw her arms forward, and ran to the elevator to accept the mission.

* * *

"NO!" Zack threw his arms forward in a similar state of shock. "That's not what I meant! Oh maaaaaan I'm such a dilweed!"

"Hahahah!"

"This isn't funny!"

"Are you kidding? It's hilarious!"

"But how do I apologize to her now?"

"I'd suggest staying quiet and letting her apologize to you first, which I warn you she will do for a solid ten minutes straight, then _maybe _you'll get a word in."

"I'll do it. I don't care."

Wow, they both thought they hated _each other_. Sephiroth still chuckled at the thought.

"It was probably a good thing she was wired from you anyway. It was the Wutai mission I was briefing her on. I might have had to go by myself. My apologies for the fiasco with Public Affairs on that matter."

_"…_Yeah, about that…" Zack kicked his foot up on a chair with a cool smirk, referring to the fact that _he'd _actually done all the work while Command gave the credit to _someone else_. Zack didn't care at all anymore, but it wasn't going to stop him from giving Sephiroth a little bit of hell for it now. The big man just sat there returning Zack's cool grin.

"Yes, _about that_…"

* * *

They dashed in darkness, weapons in hand, flowing like ghosts toward the Pagoda fort in the distance. B Unit—Sephiroth and his student—crouched down behind some underbrush to get a lay of their target.

"You hike up to the lookout nest. Relay the coordinates for the Paratroopers. I'll go set off the bomb to signal the other team," he ordered her, but her eyes shot to his.

"Let me do it."

He raised his brows at her.

"It's a job for a 1st."

A sharp-eyed smile, her opportunistic smirk. He got the hint with an evil stroke of genius.

He handed her the explosive satchel and synced the clocks on their phones.

"We'll be in radio-darkness for about twenty minutes until I get up there. You can handle it. And hey…have fun. _Indulge yourself_."

She rolled her eyes. She didn't do _fun_.

They split up with Sephiroth heading up the mountain while she slip-dashed into combat-mode.

Wutai troops funneled down from the wall. She shot her gunblade out sheening through foes like smashing a nine-iron. _Too easy_. And they said she wasn't cut out for 1st Class. She took the Semtex from her satchel, set it up against the gate and calibrated it to her cellphone. But before she could finish, a fireball streaked for her in a scream as she leapt away. Another bashed the ground in front of her, blocking her escape.

A dark angel descended from the sky, hovering down on an ashen wing in a Tiamat red long coat. _Genesis, _an unholy meriah, cascading in apocalyptic reverence. He peered at her with dark eyes while drawing a crimson Curtana.

"If I'm to understand…you have twenty minutes…"

A rush-slash crashed against her gunblade, sending her toppling back to leap off a hand for balance. She regained her footing, skidding across the ground in a plume of dust.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked with whirling eyes. He flipped his hand in a poetic flourish, charging a fire specter.

"Oblivion is the fate of all things."

A wall of flame shot at her as she darted away, the scorching blast of heat caressing her skin. Too close, she wouldn't be able to fight this battle alone. She called her Summon to her side.

Odin, the ancient ancestral deity, came forth like a searing of the sky. Genesis was not unprepared though as he called forth Diablos from his pocket-dimension of darkness. As the deity and the devil razed the sky in auric absolution, she and Genesis rushed for each other with flaring blades of ascension.

Their swords crashed together in cacophonic coalescence, bash-charisma beaming in bilateral saber-melee. A sword-barrage sent her flying back through a rock-outcropping, leaping in rush-chasms to dodge flinging flare-shots of fire. The arc of her slash singed Kevlar fibers, a Curtana sweep singed flesh. She covered down, a slam-upblock shattering his flare-downs. Elliptic waves of whirling slashes lunged for him through a crescent plume of feathers. A leaping dive-roll, and she crash-locked up with his blade, only to have a flare-slash send her careening across the ground to skid around.

Bleeding, weak, woozy now, she knew she probably wouldn't survive this. At least she had to set off that bomb! But how?

She back-flipped in front of the gate, inconspicuously before the Semtex charge. Would he go for it?

He charged a Firaga bolt. _He was going for it._

A flaring cast screamed toward her, tasting the kill, and she leapt away at the last moment. The depth-charge exploded high into the night…The signal for the other team.

_Mission Accomplished._

She lay crawling away on the ground, clear out of Magic and Ability Points, very low on HP. She was seeing double now as an infuriated angel stalked toward her. He raised his blade for the finishing blow to let it fall with dire hate.

A flash of light, and Genesis found his Curtana slam-crossed with the cold gleam of a daikatana. He stared dead-on into cerulean orbs of rage. She looked up to see her mentor standing strong over her like a vengeful guardian, holding the world at bay. When he'd seen the Summon's at war, he knew. Sephiroth threw Genesis back in a crash of unfurling sparks that sent him sailing thirty feet across the ground.

The dark angel stood up, and it seemed an imaginary line was drawn on the ground between them, cast in fire as the two severed all remaining bonds of brotherhood.

"Traitor," Sephiroth growled from deep in his throat. Genesis threw a theatric smile, flipped his hand, and flew off in a flash.

She turned him about with wild eyes.

"The other team!"

Sephiroth's face went even more stark-pale than it already was as he turned back toward the fort.

"Angeal…"

And they both ran like someone else's life depended on it.

* * *

"You guys really did save the day!" Zack exclaimed. Sephiroth shrugged.

"I heard you and Angeal were camped out in a bush somewhere playing with your dingus."

Zack winced back.

"They still gave the credit to you though. They didn't even mention her. What happened?"

"You were both supposed to be promoted that night. Instead, you lost your promotion so that Lazard didn't have to promote her as well. If he would have given 1st Class rank to you and not her, with that lawsuit she'd be a very rich girl right now. Lazard took credit away from my own student and gave it to me, even made me sit through the press conference, just to put us in our place."

"What a douche! Well he's gone now, good riddance. And now she's a 1st anyway!"

"I'm very proud of her. You're both exceptional operators. Let us leave that night and _that boss_ in the past where they belong."

"Waaay ahead of you. Last thing though, when everything went to hell in a handcart, he still called for_ her_."

"It may make her feel better…she's been taken advantage of for far too long. It's clouded her view of the world, made her think that all people seek to take something from her."

"So _that's _why she was so shy at Costa del Sol."

"Ah yes, Costa del Sol, she told me about that…"

* * *

They'd found her on the floor of Sephiroth's loft. She awoke on white sands under a beach umbrella being served apple cider—she knew better than to drink it. Instead she stared a million miles ahead, whirling in the daze of her mind.

Damage control, she went full paranoia at the hotel they'd put her up in. She drank water only from the tap. They couldn't poison her without poisoning themselves. Down on the beach where she sat by herself in a blue sarong and taupe triathlete's two-piece, someone else came to sit next to her, and life sucked ten times worse.

Reno flopped down beside her shirtless in swim trunks, leaning on a knee and licking his teeth to say hi.

"Hey baby, wanna see my _riot baton?_"

She growled deep in her throat and ignored him.

"_Fwew. _I could use some sunblock on my back, wouldn't wanna get too _hot_."

She took the bottle, ripped the top off, and dumped it on his head.

"Mm, gooey."

A scoff and she left him there, but she could never seem to _get rid of him_! Walking in the hallway, turn a corner and there he was, standing in a presumptuous pose sticking his chest out. He kissed his fingertip to his nipple, and she took an aggressive step forward.

"Oh no, please, don't hit me. I wouldn't like it," he pleaded with hands up. She punched him square in the jaw, leaving him lying on the ground with a wry smile on his face—which only made it worse.

Walking to breakfast…

"You know, you could tie me to the bed to keep me from following you." Try to go around him, he leaned over her like a high school jock. "I have some handcuffs in my back pocket you could swipe."

She went back to her room. She wasn't that hungry anyway.

At least she could stomach him more than the shrink who sat her on a sofa in a small air-conditioned room.

"Tell me about your childhood," he asked, chewing on the end of a pen with a clipboard in his lap. She shot him a cock-eyed glare like he'd cat-called her.

"Go suck on something long and tubular."

He dropped the pen.

An islet laid a ten minute boat ride off shore, she swam there every evening. Crouching on a rock, gazing out at the sunset, she pined to wonder if she was truly alone. Was there anyone else out there who understood? Swimming back at night was a sick rush, a maddening fear that made her beat her personal record every time.

Pushups in the surf and wind-sprints up the dunes, and she kept running, five miles down the shoreline to the sea cliffs that stood like a bombarded fortress. Leaping rocks like a feline, she stood at the top of the cliff like an iconic SOLDIER recruiting poster. _THE FEW, THE PROUD. _

She stood where no one could stand, on top of the world like everyone said she couldn't. With the sea breeze whipping shards of lilac off her eyes, and salt beading off her chiseled shoulders like she was proving the world wrong, she realized the absolute truth…

…That they were all right. That she wasn't good enough. If she had been good enough, _why had he left her?_

She stepped out onto the hotel deck in bare feet one morning to lean on the railing. The soft winds wafting off the waves brought her no comfort in this place. Footsteps, drawing near, she looked up to see a flash of black hair.

And ran.

She'd heard of him. Big head, loud mouth, best operator in the regiment, barely two years in and already he was a 1st. She knew that any feat of strength she could muster, any jaw-dropping display to shatter perceptions and blast away stereotypes, he could do it better. He had a size and strength advantage, he had every advantage over her, the truth leered that he was just straight-up better. He always would be, just because of what he was, and what _she _was.

He'd come to rub it in. She couldn't take it, not now.

_I freaking know okay!_

A glance over her shoulder to see if he was gone…she stopped. He turned away like his whole body slumped. This proud fighter looked beat to hell, head to the ground with a hand raised to wipe burning eyes.

What's this? A man…with _emotions?_ Impossible! Did men even have feelings? She highly doubted it after what she'd been through. Still, maybe it was best to make sure. She turned to follow him down the stairs.

Reno came stumbling out onto the deck after her. He caught up with her down the steps by the pool.

"Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Can we talk? I like feet."

She slammed him with a hard fist in the stomach, dropped an elbow on his back and ran him toward the pool. But she stopped, thinking better of throwing an unconscious man into a swimming pool…She stuck a life-preserver over his arms and chucked him in.

Down on the beach, he sat with his eyes to the waves, looking like he wanted to be part of them, to swim away and dissolve into liquefied nothing. Right then, everything in her life changed.

She knew she was wrong, he was hurting, he was right there with her. She'd go wrap him up hard, not even say a word to him, they'd sit locked in a catatonic embrace for hours blocking out the world. Rain, storm, shine, it didn't matter, they were stronger.

They could run away, go vandalize some private property and get arrested, complete the whole _SOLDIER's having an episode_ stereotype. Chucking rocks off the jetty, they'd curse at the sky, throw huge middle fingers at their employer and go back to work like a couple of bastards ready to take on the world with a newfound sense of _screw you_.

But…A challenger appeared. A girl Turk with red hair sat down behind him to rub sunblock on his back. He didn't even seem to like it, but he would, she'd make him.

Sephiroth's razorgirl stood watching this whole sick charade with bile rising in her throat. _These girls_. She hated these girls above all else in life. Traumatic memories of not being able to lift a finger against girls she could easily break in half flashed before her eyes. She lived her life by the same rules the boys did, so the same restrictions unfortunately applied to her, and these girls knew it. If she laid a hand on one of them, or said a word, even shot a stray glare, she became the bad-guyan amassed army of male friends would try to stick up against for brownie points. Fighting a little girl became fighting a posse of men…men she had no quarrel with, whom she wanted nothing more than to share honor with.

…and he wanted _her._

She turned to leave, surrendering once again to the women who'd shoved her to the sidelines her entire life, who'd taken friends from her and even lost her a high-paying job as one of them. She wasn't sorry for not ending up in a Microcheck suit, but she wouldn't tolerate them, she couldn't even be civil with them if her life depended on it.

It didn't matter anyway, deep down she knew the type of guy he was too. He liked his delicate flowers that he could take care of and would make him feel like a hero. But she was a rose, and had to be handled in a very specific way that took years to master. She had complicated needs and problems that weren't easily solved. She was frustrating to deal with, not picky but needy. She required people close to her to grow with her in order to grow herself. He'd never put in the effort, never accept a woman with _thorns_.

Helplessness assailed her as she headed back to the hotel, the sense of being objectified blared in her psyche like a huge cognitive distortion. She couldn't take it, she couldn't accept her station in life, this empty crushing feeling of not being real would assail her no longer…She would do it tonight.

Searching around her room, she noticed they'd left her no razor, but a huge bottle of Nair in the bathtub. Her gunblade was back at HQ, along with the strap that belted around her hip. Her boots were latch-ups, and her bed sheets were the kind of neoprene that wouldn't hold a knot. Not even a bottle of Asprin lay in the medicine cabinet.

Now she was spiraling, that helpless feeling welling like razor winds in her whirling mind. Deprived of all personal power, the power over herself, over her body, even the power to end her own life, she paced back and forth like a caged tiger, a dangerous animal cornered and harassed. With nothing left to live for, no one left to fall on, no one who cared when she didn't even care about herself, she screamed.

The medical team stacked up outside the hotel room where crashing furniture flew against the walls. Reno stumbled out of his room pulling his boxers up—he slept naked after all. Making the medics stand down, he forced his way in, ducking a chair that flew over his head.

"Okay, all joking aside now…" he grabbed her thrashing and screaming, and clutched her close. She _crumbled_ against him, crying and sobbing onto his bare chest.

"See? That wasn't so bad. Just a nice, friendly hug," he said as his hands slid lower down her back.

Reno went crashing through the window.

.

[Received Odin Materia]


	41. Ch 36 - Visions of Light and Darkness P3

Zack threw his hands up cheering.

"_Woo-hoo_! I hated that guy."

"You're not alone on that account," Sephiroth glowered. Zack cringed in his hands like he'd been socked in the stomach.

_"Ahhhh_, I feel like such an ant-farm! I'm a total jerk!"

"You'll have a lot to talk about with her when you get back then."

Zack threw his hands out harmless.

"I love this girl, she's my hero! The first thing I do when I meet her, I'm giving her a hug. I don't care if she yells, screams, and punches me in the face, she's got a brother for life. Forget rock-climbing, I can spar with this girl! She'd help me level up, I'm totally hitting a wall just by myself in the VR room anyway."

"She'll be glad to know that, but again, she won't believe it coming from me."

"I'll tell her myself, don't even worry. I can't wait to meet her!"

"That makes me happy to hear, and relieved. She needs more friends, it's one of our areas of tension."

"Really? You guys fight?"

Sephiroth shot him a flat stare. That was a stupid question. His eyes rolled back in their sockets.

_"I _encourage her, _I _move mountains to make her happy,_ I _sit there and listen to her complain when she sets herself up to fail. I tell her that in order to meet people, she has to go _talk _to people."

"And what's she say to you about that?"

Then his eyes peeled to slits as he did his best impression of the girl who currently occupied a massive space in his life.

_"You first."_

Zack lost it. He and her were totally on the same page and had the same horrible humor. She was Zack's _soul mate_!

"Ahaha! Man, she's a riot!"

"Well, at least someone finds her amusing."

Zack could tell Sephiroth had been with her for a while now. You don't stick with a girl that long if she doesn't truly own a piece of your heart. However, you don't stick with a girl that long without learning to hate her in some twisted way either.

"You guys probably have arguing down to an art form, don't you?"

"More like a _martial-art form. _It is a good thing that you and your mentor had such a good relationship when he was alive. My student, on the other hand, _wishes _I were dead."

"How do you know?"

"She tells me every other minute. We started out at she hopes I choke on a chicken bone and now I believe we're at she hopes I fall into a reactor. I'm afraid to know what's next, probably go get hit by a meteor."

"Aw, that just means she cares."

"Indeed, the _sardonic little shit._"

Oh man, he _loved _her. Zack got the hint that Sephiroth wasn't the most emotional guy in the world. But despite their seeming mutual hatred, Sephiroth's student knew all his darkest issues and health problems. No holding back, she knew everything embarrassing and heart-warming about him, and Zack couldn't help but think that she took care of Sephrioth as much as he took care of her.

He was right about that fact too. She was there when he'd wake up screaming in the middle of the night from a cluster headache, and she'd have to inject his Imitrex Rx straight into the back of his neck and rub his head until the pain subsided. The FDA claimed Mako-Infusion had no long-term adverse side-effects, Sephiroth spat in their general direction. She had to answer his phone half the time as a dead line would send him into a paranoid black-out, and they'd end up huddling in a corner waiting for his anxiety to die down. He'd say he would understand if she left him. Years later, she was still there.

Now Zack pursed his lips, thinking about how he could relate to Sephiroth in many more ways than he thought.

"After that little stunt in Wutai, I guess you're not going after Genesis the way I was going after Angeal?" he asked, to which Sephiroth's eyes darkened.

"You see that water-tower in the middle of town? That's where I'm going to hang Genesis' body. When your own brother comes after the woman in your life…well, he's no longer your brother anymore."

Zack's crossed his arms. He and Sephiroth really did have more in common than he thought. That horrible cold feeling of losing someone precious to a person he dearly loved conflicted in his subconscious as he reminisced. He'd never felt more helpless in his life at Modeoheim. He saw the same reminiscent look in Sephiroth's eyes, the resounding horror in the back of both their minds, the _what if? _

"I guess all three apprentices had it rough," Zack muttered to himself.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"What are you talking about?"

Aw shoot, Zack did it again, said the quiet part loud and the loud part quiet. Why did he always do that?

"Well…it's just…everything you've been telling me about Genesis, I believe it, but it's not meshing with the Genesis I remember."

"Did you know him?"

"No, I never met him before Wutai. But…I did meet his student, once…"

* * *

Angeal headed to the training room with his young student Zack in tow.

"You're sure you're up for this now?" Angeal checked him, while Zack trotted at his heels.

"Yeah yeah totally! I got this like a rebound shot! Like a three-from-downtown! I'm pretty good at basketball. My team lost last night in the play-offs. If they would have upped their offense they'd have won hook-line-and-sinker! I'm not into fishing. I think it's boring. I can go for some seafood right about now—"

"Alright Zack, calm down. We're going for a friendly sparring match with another apprentice. He's a 1st but hasn't been training much longer than you have. His mentor is a friend of mine."

Zack bounced on the balls of his feet. "I got this. I totally got this!"

They entered the training room where Genesis waited for them. When he moved aside, they saw _his student._

His hair was a mottled mess, with bangs that draped his eyes like he'd stopped caring a long time ago, hued in the dark tinge of abysmal blue. His Mako eyes might have once been the classic vibrant neon, but now were dark, clouded ultramarine. He carried a luminite-steel _vibrosword, _he didn't mess around with showing off. A shiver ran up Zack's spine that he forced away.

Genesis flipped his hand in that annoyingly-familiar theatric flourish, reciting that grating verse of his.

_"Infinite in mystery is the Gift of the Goddess. We seek it thus and take to the sky…"_

But something changed in his student. His eyes became droopy, closing altogether, and his whole body seemed to slump—as if entranced.

Zack thought poetry was stupid but making friends was fun. He drew his own longsword, bounding up to introduce himself before they got to it.

"Hiya! I'm Zack, SOLDIER 2nd Cl—"

But in a flash the boy grabbed his outstretched arm and threw him into a wall. A luminite sword slammed into the place Zack darted away from. Holy hell, so much for introductions…and sportsmanship!

Genesis' student sprang across ten feet to his opponent, bashing his sword on Zack's blade. He dropped in a deceptive spin, forcing Zack into a dive-somersault over that slitting strike. Zack hit the ground with a soft thud and popped to his feet, but another slam-hit threw him back. This time his ankle hurt bad.

There was no letting up. Genesis' student ran in to finish the fight. Zack cast Cure on himself to numb his ankle and dive-rolled to the side to gain distance, but found the guy already in front of him as if teleported.

_Dash Materia, __what a cheater!_

Zack cut in a high-low down-slice at his opponent's shoulder only to meet air once again, and the blur of blue hair where he'd stood. Before Zack could about-face, a hard boot slammed into his back, sending him toppling again.

This was embarrassing. Zack was getting owned! And if he didn't get himself together, he was set to get seriously hurt.

The luminite blade sheered down on him, but Zack crossed his own sword over his body just in time. He threw the blade aside and kicked up to his feet, whirling to deflect rushing bat-hits from the driven student. The guy held his sword in one hand. Angeal had taught never to do that for a reason and Zack saw his opening. The next down-slash, Zack grabbed the kid's wrist throwing him over his shoulder. He landed flat on the ground with a hard thud as Zack leapt back.

He could have kept on him, but he let him get back up. Zack had honor, unlike _some _people.

The boy shot to his feet in a fury, dashing for Zack in a streak that bashed him back again. Zack swung his sword in a desperate whirl to keep the guy from slamming into him again, lest he slam straight into a sword tip. But instead, a wrestler's shot took his legs out from under him, and Zack scrambled to stay on his knees. The student shot in, kicking his sword away, the point of his own luminite blade singeing at Zack's throat. The fight was over, or was it…?

Well, shoot, can't win'em all. Zack put his hands up in defeat…but the student _kept on, _pressing his blade forward toward Zack's diaphragm. He didn't stop, like he hadn't been trained to stop.

"Okay! Uncle! I give up!" Zack complained. The sword tip leered for his throat, driving him down to the ground. Zack glared up at his opponent, splayed out helpless on the cold training room floor. "...Real hero man."

"Enough! We yield!" Angeal stepped in, his own hand clutched the hilt of his Buster Sword.

Zack could feel a nervous tension in the air, like this display was more than hubris and pride, more than a show of intimidation…the kid's eyes didn't track light.

_Hypnotized? _

When the vibrosword raised for a killshot, a streak of Thundara bashed him away. Angeal picked an enraged Zack up by the arm.

"He's a sonofa—"

"I know…" Angeal consoled him.

"He was trying to kill me! He was really trying to kill me! Wow, no honor!"

"And you have preserved yours."

He put his hands on Zack's shoulders, calming his inner storm.

Meanwhile Zack's opponent picked himself up blinking and shaking his head out. He saw Angeal's hands on Zack's shoulders and cocked an eyebrow. Zack had lost and his mentor was _consoling _him? Angeal stood dusting his student off while Zack bore into his opponent's whirling eyes.

_Yeah! That's right! My mentor LOVES me. Doesn't yours?_

Right as Zack finished his thought, a vicious backhand from Genesis sent the boy flying across the floor. The impact echoed off the training room, making Zack jump.

"You slipped!" Genesis snarled.

His student popped back to his feet, blood trickling from his nose that he didn't dare wipe away. You _do not _stay down with Genesis. If you're going to bleed out and die, do it on your feet. He knew this all too well as his mentor bore into him like an executioner, towering over him with an aura of eclipsing darkness.

"You are royalty. You don't have the luxury of honor. If you fall, an entire city falls with you! Your task is to not fail at whatever cost, and now I am ashamed to call you my student. I would not call you a man much less a warrior. You are a disgrace to the SOLDIER name!"

Zack stared aghast at this horrific scene unfolding before him, while stone eyes of ultramarine stared dazed and hard back into his. The boy took it all in, every word absorbed into his psyche like he was _used _to it.

Zack's eyes flew to Angeal.

"_Step in!_" he mouthed, but his mentor bowed his head in humbled shame.

"Direct orders…from the President."

Zack whirled in a frenzy to wrap his mind around this seriously screwed up situation, not realizing that in a sick way this was also part of his training, exposure to the cruelties of the world.

Genesis grunted in disgust at his young ward, and stormed off without him. As he turned to follow, Zack felt himself seized by an urge and forced his way past Angeal. He bounced up to the kid with a huge smile on his face, but the guy shrunk back. He'd just utterly humiliated Zack in an unfair fight. Would he retaliate? Strike back in anger now that his guard was down? Instead, Zack held out his hand.

"Hey! Great fight. I learned an awful lot and gained some really good experience. I hope we can do it again sometime!"

The boy gazed at Zack with a guarded look of fear, like he just couldn't understand what was going on here. But the beaming ray of sunlight who stood in front of him assured him, their altercation never happened.

He seized Zack's hand and bowed low over it, like Zack had just named his first-born after him. Moments like this, years down the line, would teach Zack his virtue: _Friendship._

The booming voice of Genesis shattered their moment, and in a flash the boy flowed with quick paces to his master's call.

Zack watched him go, a knot of nausea welling in his core. He knew what it was like to be treated like a puppy, but that's what it meant to be treated like a _dog_.

"Angeal…is that what it takes to be a 1st?"

"No Zack," Angeal went to his student's side, watching the illusive SOLDIER's take their leave. "That's what it takes to be a prince."

* * *

Sephiroth shook his head with a terrible groan, while Zack remained deep in thought.

"I still don't know why he didn't step in," Zack spoke to the floor.

"I do. I received the same threat. If we took Genesis' student away from him, they would take ours away from us."

Zack looked up, the color rushing from his face.

"That's one hell of an ultimatum. Do you know where he is now?"

"Probably with his family or…dead…" Sephiroth waved his hand to speculate.

The rumor mill was pretty resourceful in SOLDIER. People had seen him around a couple times, always in tow behind his mentor—never in front or at his side. They wondered who the illusive young 1st was, and wondered even more when he disappeared. Theories emerged, everything from alien abductions to being experimented on by the R&amp;D Department, but Luxiere knew a guy in Networking who'd broken OPSEC to give him the scoop…allegations of sexual abuse.

Now Zack's mood was shot. How many uppercuts could life throw? He was anxious to get off the subject, but nothing would bring the light-hearted air back when serious matters wound their way into their world like party-crashers. His mind wandered to those matters in a vein of responsibility.

"Can I ask a question about your student again?"

Sephiroth's eyes gave him permission, and Zack leaned forward.

"I think we both know why they send SOLDIER's to Costa del Sol. When I saw her there, she didn't look too good. I've been really worried about her…Is she alright?"

Sephiroth took his time, his eyes becoming sad. He stared at the floor for a long moment before sighing to someone who wasn't there.

"…Every day is little steps. Little victories. I fear that she will never trust me again. I feel like I have failed, as a mentor, as a man. Now, all I can do, for what I have broken, is try to put it back together again the best way I know how, with patience and all my heart."

He seemed to zone out into himself, and Zack recognized that lonely thousand-yard stare. He missed her. This lack of cell reception was killing him more than it killed Zack. They both knew what it was like to sleep alone after sharing so much of their lives with someone, the pining ache that drove them to pace and to panic. Zack could only hope that he was providing the man with some comfort in these dark and trying times.

"Do you mind if I ask?" They both knew the answer to that by now. "What happened?"

But Sephiroth's eyes froze. A cataclysm of welling emotion held stable in cerulean irises, struggling to come to terms with Zack's request this time.

"…She took it very hard…when I came out of that data room…and went away for a while…"

Now Zack stopped breathing, feeling the fear that swirled in Sephrioth's eyes. It was right there, on the table in front of them. Sephiroth had placed Pandora's Box right within Zack's reach, and for the life of him he couldn't open it. He made it Zack's decision, all the power over the man now rested fastidiously in Zack's hands…an honor.

How long did they sit there in silence, a minute? An hour? An entire lifetime? Zack sat slumped forward on his knees like in silent prayer, whirling in his heart, fighting in his mind. After an immeasurable amount of time, Sephiroth flashed a grin to break the spell.

"It's getting late, we should probably turn in."

And the air of tension eased to vanishing null. Zack and Sephiroth both stood as if a weight had fallen from their shoulders and walked with lighter steps to the door. There, Zack stopped, a playful thought streaking across his eyes.

"Hey. Uh, how do I say _goodnight?_"

Sephiroth smiled. He knew what he meant. He showed Zack how to say it in sign-language, and Zack tried it out for himself.

"Close enough," the big man laughed, and held out his hand.

Zack tensed. Everyone who'd ever shaken his hand had betrayed him in the most sadistic way imaginable. He hesitated, took a breath, and clasped the man's hand. But Sephiroth pulled Zack in for a hug, wrapping him up in a strong embrace. He held him like _Angeal's arms_, a protective lunar ring engulfing him like a sable wing. Zack gasped, and after a moment, let his own arm wrap around him in turn.

When they pulled away after a short while, they stood facing each other on equal ground. Zack stood up as straight and tall as Sephiroth. So many things he wanted to say that didn't need to be spoken, Sephiroth already knew. With a coy grin, a smart smirk, Zack pointed a cool finger at him—_don't do anything I wouldn't do—_and left the room.

He strolled outside to take a walk, get some air before bed. A sudden urge, and he turned back to gaze at the Inn, thinking about someone who was more human now than he ever was as the shining hero of Shinra.

Zack resolved with himself to never leave the man's side, to fight with him through whatever battles he'd face within himself or otherwise. Forget the medication, _Zack _could be his medicine, he was old enough now to understand. For where he'd failed with his dearly departed mentor, he would not fail again.

A slight smile back toward the Inn, midnight stars dancing in his delicate eyes, he went for a walk feeling like all was right in the world.

.

[Sephiroth is added to the DMW]


	42. Chapter 37 - Hero

Sephiroth hadn't just taken an interest in the oldest member of their group, he'd turned an eye on their youngest as well. While he and Zack had been talking during the night, he had his own conversations with Cloud during the day. They'd sit on the porch talking philosophy in sign-language for hours more intensely than Angeal had ever mentally sparred with Zack. But Cloud could keep up, debating Sephiroth on ethics and logic like they were playing Chess. Teenage boy, Cloud was going through rough years, but luckily he was surrounded by role-model figures who were there to help him along. Every now and then, Zack would see Cloud sign for a long time, and Sephiroth stop signing with a warm gaze trained on him…the deaf man was _listening. _

He'd given him a copy of Musashi, and Cloud read it on the stoop after patrols. Zack laughed at seeing him getting started on the same principles that he was brought up on, the teachings Angeal had imparted on him as SOLDIER. He was also glad to know that Sephiroth was on the same page as him, that they both had a shared silent agreement—Zack wasn't planning on sending Cloud back to Security when this detail ended.

The plateau above the town was a beautiful scenic overlook, and a good smoking spot. Zack found Sephiroth there one evening as the sun was going down, taking slow drags from his last clove cigarette. Zack was the only person Sephiroth could really chit-chat with, and after some idle banter their conversation veered onto their youngest.

"You and Cloud seem to be getting along," Zack noted.

"He's a good boy, and very smart. He'll make an excellent SOLDIER, provided he has someone there to look up to."

Sephiroth peered over at Zack from the corner of his eye, who shuffled a foot on the ground. They both seemed to know he was stepping into some bigger boots. Now with his solemn mantle gazing out into the sunset, he stood next to a big man whom a year earlier had been an enigma to him. Their time here was almost over, but would he become an enigma again?

Sephiroth returned his gaze to the sun that beaded in shimmering rays off his hair, bathed in an aural luster like the day he'd walked back into Zack's life. He spoke in a velveteen voice to the sky.

"I believe that when we are young, we put up walls just to see who is strong enough to tear them down. As a mentor myself, I promise to tear down as many walls as I can…for the rest of my life."

Zack saw him from his peripherals in lulling golden light, feeling a connection between them. They stood together on that plateau as if on a precipice between worlds, overlooking the apex of life and death.

"Hey…" Zack spoke up, "uh, look. About looking up to people…" Zack ran a hand over his hair, mulling over what he wanted to say, trying to figure out a tactful way to word everything. He gave up, and said what was in his heart.

"…When Angeal died, I felt lost. I didn't know where I was going or what I was doing. To be honest, I didn't care, like I was counting down the days until something, I don't know what. I got all filled up with anger and became self-destructive. I wanted everyone to hurt as much as I did. I wanted to hurt myself. Then you came along, you kinda gave me someone else to look up to. Nothing will ever take Angeal's place, but you've been making it easier. I finally feel like I can move on. So I just wanted to say…Thanks."

But rather than return Zack's sentiments, Sephiroth ran a hand over his own hair with a low annoyed _groan! _

"Zack, I know Angeal was very _patient_ with your learning curve, but I am not so merciful."

"Wait, wha—"

_"Zack_…"

Sephiroth turned on him, and Zack stood up straight before the big man with whirling eyes. What had he said? He hadn't meant to offend him. He'd felt safe around him. But Sephiroth's stance relaxed, though his tone remained serious as he spoke to the young SOLDIER.

"I've watched you grow up over these past few years. I know you better than you know yourself. I know that you had a rough upbringing and that your father was less than an ideal role model, so you seek out others to fulfill that need. I cannot be that for you Zack, but I will be your mentor…for a minute, just a minute. And I will teach you one thing not as my student but as my friend. This is something Angeal wasn't strong enough to impart upon you. All of your mentors _will _leave you, whether by death or by circumstance of life, you _will _die alone. This is the final step in becoming a man, to accept death in its entirety, which is your worse fear. What you have to decide is what to do when that time comes. Will you fall when they fall, or will you survive? _I know you, Zack_. You don't want to be a hero for the attention, you want it to ease the transition. You want to be other people's hero because you can't find one in yourself, that little boy inside you needs help growing up. But Zack, you're out of time. You need to jump the gap, for yourself, and for the kid down there who idolizes you."

All of Zack's armor fell to the ground as he took a pleading step forward.

"What if I can't? What if I can't do it? The last time I tried, I lost everything, and I can't go through that again. I don't even know who I am. I want to be a hero and I don't even know what that means."

He stood there on the plateau facing the big man, trying not to cry. What Sephiroth saw was a boy overlooking the cliff's edge of adult hood, awaiting the orders to jump. A revelation hit that Zack didn't know he was going through the same thing another young boy was going through on a lower plane, the same thing all men go through like ascending steps in life.

_What if I can't make it? What if I'm not strong enough? _

A warm glow in the big man's eyes shone down on Zack, the poor kid standing there like his world was falling apart all over again.

"This is a good thinking spot, and the stars will be out soon. Whenever I needed counsel in life, I always asked them, and even though the answer wasn't always what I wanted, they were always there." Sephiroth started back for the village. "…Come find me when you've figured it out."

He left Zack standing alone on the plateau, his swirling thoughts the only company in his time of need. Everyone had to walk this path up the mountain alone, no one else could walk it for him. Hit by the bane of absolute truth like a comet, his worse fears leered at him like monsters that had always been there since he was small: Growing up, dying.

With a shaking resolve he drew his sword and drove it into the ground. When no answers came to him, he slumped down cross-legged, resting his chin on a hand.

Footsteps behind him.

"Hey!" Cloud trotted up to sit next to him. "Um, Sephiroth said you were up here and needed help with something. I mean, I told him you could probably shake by yourself but he didn't think so."

Zack cocked a crooked smile at the kid, this church boy turned smart little cuss. He took a sick pride in ruining him, he'd been acting like Zack more every day.

"Cloud, what do you think it means to be a hero?" Zack asked, and Cloud rubbed the back of his head.

"Aw, I dunno. I think it means…doing things other people are afraid to do. Yeah. It means being braver."

Zack smirked. _Well there ya go. _To his surprise, the whirling storm in his mind eased, and a looming calm settled over the plateau. Zack stared back at the solemn silhouette of his sword against the sky, while Cloud stretched his hands behind his head.

"I want to be buried like that," the kid said, and Zack cocked an eye brow at him.

"Like what, just with a big sword sticking out of your grave?"

"Yeah, it would be so cool! You know how many people would come just to take pictures by it?"

Zack swept a hand over Cloud's blonde spikes, to which he freaked out shooting his hands up to fix them.

_"Ngh, _the hair man."

Zack jumped on him, getting him into a headlock to ruffle his hair, which he squirmed out of and then they were slap-fighting.

When the stars came and darkness shrouded the town, Zack returned to Sephiroth's room. He found him in his usual spot, taking tea by the window. Zack sat down in the chair across from him, leaning his elbows on his knees. He stayed looking down at the floor, but really he looked somewhere deep within.

"Being a hero means…to inspire, to make a difference while giving others an example. To be a hero is to be afraid and do things anyway, and to commit to doing things others are afraid of doing, even if it means losing everything. To be a hero is to be human even if it kills you, to give the shirt off your back if it's the last shirt in the world, and not judge who it goes to. We do things not for ourselves, but for the greater good, from time to time raising our hand in combat. While being a hero is about saving lives, it can also be about taking them, and that's where honor lies, in doing things that are uncomfortable and compromising ourselves so that others may live. We possess a resolute acceptance of death, a warrior can leave his body, but he must protect his honor. A hero is selfless without dishonoring himself, someone who keeps his word, to whom one can trust one's life and the lives of one's family. In the end, being a hero means giving your all, even if it means…your own life."

He looked up to find Sephiroth staring at him, quietly affixing his gaze to the SOLDIER without judgment. Zack ran his hand over his face.

"You're looking at me like that again," he groaned, and Sephiroth smiled with his eyes.

"Maybe…because I'm proud of you."

.

[Received Masamune]


	43. Chapter 38 - Home

Month 6: Done! A week until home!

Zack raced up the stairs to his room, barreling into the bathroom. He unzipped his fly and banged on the wall.

"Sephiroth!"

"What!"

"I'm peeing!"

A moment of silence.

"Lorena Bobbitt is proud of you!"

"Aw mother f—"

…sucked right back up.

Now that they were almost done, the days were going _so slow_! Holy cow it was like a minute became 90 seconds just to mess with them! The Tudor houses and half-asphalt truck-lots leered at them as if laughing. _Yer gunna miss me boys! _

On top of waiting, there was nothing to do, which made _waiting_ a million times worse. Everyone thought Zack was snappy because of having to do the one thing he was biologically not hardwired to do, but Cloud knew the real reason…today was Zack's birthday!

_Ensue Quarter-life Crisis. _

They lounged on the porch listening to a portable boombox, Blink182 rocking out in the afternoon.

_NOBODY LIKES YOU WHEN YOU'RE—_

Zack kicked the radio down the steps. A mean streak of mischief crossed Cloud's eyes.

"You know Zack—"

"Shutup! I still have more friends than you!"

_Ooooh_.

"It's not like it's a—"

"Hey, you see this face right here? I know it's beautiful but it ain't listening!"

As Zack pouted on the stoop, Sephiroth lulled back in his chair, an evil streak of his own crossing his eyes.

"Pro-tip, Zack…a little Rogain goes a long way."

Zack _absolutely freaked_! He felt his hairline, took frantic selfies with his phone and pulled at his skin about to cry. They all sat back to watch the show until…

Cloud's phone rang. _The call! _He pulled it out while Zack knocked it up from his hand, chucking it to his other hand as Cloud grabbed for it, and threw it to Sephiroth.

"…Sephiroth…" he answered, and everyone hung on the edge of their seats. But Sephiroth shot to his feet.

"…What?! Impossible!"

They jumped off the stairs as he stormed down them, a frantic shake in his voice.

"You can't do that!"

Zack stepped forward as the big man screamed into the phone.

"This is illegal! If you go through with this then I quit!"

"And I quit too!" Zack shouted.

"What?" Sephiroth held the phone out.

"I QUIT TOO!" Zack repeated as Sephiroth pulled the phone back to his ear.

"There! We all quit! Civilian law applies now! _Come get us_!"

Zack wasn't sure what he was doing. Everyone stared at Sephiroth as he screamed into the phone like a man possessed.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS! I'll have you all fired! I'll have you arrested! I'll—"

*_Click_*

The line went dead. There was no way to call back.

Sephiroth froze, shaking with beads of sweat on his brow. Zack waited with that same look of fear while three young troops stood scared behind him. The big man let his hand fall with a monumental effort, eyes straight ahead like a meteor had struck.

"Squad Leaders, to me," he ordered, and Zack followed him around the building. When they were out of ear shot, Zack waved his hands at his staggering team leader. What the hell was happening? Sephiroth took a deep breath and looked Zack dead in the eye.

"We're being extended. A full deployment, six more months."

Zack choked, the air knocked from his chest. He flew into a rage.

"WHAT!? No! They can't do that!"

"They just did."

"No! Call them back! Call those goddamn bastards back!"

"With what call button?"

The world as they knew it was falling apart around them. Zack's adrenaline skyrocketed through the stratosphere as he shook in frantic spasms. Sephiroth held his own hand steady with a herculean effort.

"Go tell your squad," he ordered Zack.

"No way! _You _tell them!"

"I'm not their _Squad Leader_."

"This can't be happening! This isn't happening! You should have stuck up for us! You should have done something! Where's your honor!"

"Stand down, SOLDIER," Sephiroth growled.

"You're _pulling rank _on me? What the hell! Screw this and screw you! I'm not standing for this! I'm not going to take this! No way! Go to—"

Sephiroth _shoved _him against the wall. Zack couldn't believe it. Here they were squared up with each other ready to go to blows! But he saw something in the big man's eyes that made him catch his breath. _Tears. _

_You're not the only one trying to get back to someone! _

Sephiroth stormed off, leaving Zack alone. They both knew the truth. They weren't mad at each other, but he had to walk away.

Zack stayed propped against that wall for a long time absorbing this nightmare. After a time that seemed like forever, he picked himself up and went to do his job: _tell his squad. _

He found them all standing where he'd left them, eyes trained on their oldest like a protective figure, someone who would never let anything bad happen to them. With a look of mottled pain, Zack held his breath as he spoke the words quiet and monotone.

"We've been extended. Six more months."

The shock that rocked the young troops flew through Zack like a javelin. No one said anything for a long moment, like the world had stood on its axis and reality ceased to exist. The SOLDIER and the pilot wandered off together in slow steps, staring aimless out into nowhere like nothing was real anymore. Cloud stayed stunned at Attention while Zack looked straight through him, unable to meet his gaze. The proud SOLDIER 1st Class turned to go somewhere, anywhere, just to walk and catch his breath. He rounded the corner of the Inn and rested an outstretched palm against the siding, choking, keeling over like he was about to throw up.

But Cloud wouldn't let him get away. He rushed up behind him.

"Zack, I'm sorry—"

But Zack _whirled _on the kid, volcanoes erupting in his eyes.

"Yeah, cause it's _all your fault_. You did this, right? It's totally because of you that we're stuck here for another goddamn six whole months! Apologize then, go ahead! Like it'll change anything now. You don't even care anyway. _You're home_. It's not like you even have anything or _anyone _to go back to!"

Zack shouted at Cloud, oblivious to the shocked and hard look building in the kid's eyes.

"You think this is my home?"

"Just shut up! You don't even know! You don't even know!" Zack flung his arms around, turning away to hide his eyes and curse the entire world. Cloud took it, saying nothing, and reached out a hand to touch Zack's shoulder.

A huge fist flared around slamming straight into Cloud's jaw. It sent him crashing back into the Inn, knocking his helmet off his head. Zack dropped to his knees aghast, throwing his hands forward, pangs of absolute shock flashing across his wide-eyes. He couldn't believe he'd just done that.

Cloud struggled to sit up, grunting in pain as blood trickled down the side of his face and into his blonde hair. Zack's shaking hands moved on their own, grabbing for his pocket first-aid kit. He took out an iodine swab, hesitating as he inched his way toward Cloud with hands up harmless. His eyes were wells of pain, shocked into submission. He knew when he was wrong.

Cloud held still, allowing him to move his jaw a little to clean the cut. He winced, and Zack let up, not caring if blood got on his hands as he wiped on his pants. All the while Zack jerked his head against his own arm, rubbing his eyes. Every couple seconds he'd do it again. Cloud said nothing.

When all was patched up, he picked Cloud up with his helmet and put it back on his head. His bright blue eyes beamed up at him without judgement, standing strong when Zack's eyes couldn't stop blinking.

They walked together, strolling through the town to get lost, which was near impossible in a community that took up a full square mile. They spoke little as they cajoled with their hands in their pockets, kicking rocks until the sun went down. A distant glow over the tree line and the smell of smoke caught their attention. Sephiroth was taking his own walk.

"Is he trying to burn down the forest?" Zack asked with a cocked eyebrow, while Cloud gazed apathetic at the trees.

"Hope so. Revenge for me having to cut it down all those summers."

Zack glanced at Cloud sidelong, the building golden glow starting to sheen his fresh features. His blue eyes stared a thousand miles out into darkness like he saw something beyond them, a look that Zack remembered wearing many times before he'd met Cloud, and realized that he hadn't worn since.

Sixteen was too young to wear that gaze.

"You really hated it here, didn't you?" Zack asked, while Cloud let out a heavy sigh, bearing all in solemn submission to the SOLDIER at his side.

"If I would have stayed in this place one more day, I would not be here today."

The resounding seriousness of Cloud's confession shook Zack to his core, stirring a deep kinship in him that seemed like it had always been for Cloud. He shuffled a foot on the ground.

"…You know Cloud, heh, sometimes you can't see the forest for the trees."

"To hell with the trees," Cloud spat, and something in his voice made Zack _laugh_.

"Yeah! And the whales too!"

"And the wolves."

"Whoa, easy on the canine family! They're a vital part of the ecosystem!"

"To hell with the ecosystem."

"Haha! And the polar bears!"

"And the snow leopards!"

"And those spotted owl things!"

"We have those around here."

"Really?"

"Yeah…" Cloud cocked his rifle. "Wanna go hunting?"

"Oh man, I don't know if I can bring myself to."

_"They're endangered!" _Cloud sang, a mean streak flaring in his eyes. A wide smile crept across Zack's face. 

"Okay, let's go!" And they took off to go use the Endangered Species Act for target practice. "We'll probably just end up taking pictures of them anyway."

They did.

Later that night, Sephiroth returned to the Inn to find Zack and Cloud sitting in the common room. They'd hooked up Cloud's game system to the big screen and were now burning through generator fuel playing videogames.

They saw him in their peripherals. He looked ten years older, _twenty _years older. In a way, they all did.

"Hey," Zack greeted him without looking up, zoning out into the screen the same way that Cloud did, the same way that Sephiroth was doing now. "We saw your bonfire. Didn't know if we were invited though, so we just kinda hung back."

"You didn't miss much," replied the big man.

"Reeks to high heaven."

"Psychological warfare. Letting the enemy know what fate awaits them."

"Cool. We've just been here for the past five hours trying to beat this level."

"What are you playing?"

"To be honest…I have no idea. We're sword-marines on Planet X fighting giant crystals and chasing a madman across kingdom come."

"I see. And why are you fighting said antagonists?"

Zack shot him a look similar to one Sephiroth had given him once when Zack had asked him what his student was studying in college. Luckily Cloud came to the rescue with an answer as he tapped away monotonously on his controller.

"Because the Gods that are the videogame industry said we should. And we're having a _grand ole time _doing it too. They also said we should buy the sequel for the price of food for a week."

At that, Cloud died, and passed the controller to Zack. He started his own turn complaining in a haze at the screen as if it were listening.

"You know, it's like they think we're all a bunch of retards. I don't know if they're doing it on purpose or if they really just suck at writing storylines."

"Aw come on Zack, give them a break. The developers all went to school for computer programing, not creative writing," Cloud jabbed, at which Sephiroth added his own opinion.

"It's likely a combination of both. After all, their marketing statistics show that their prime demographic is women over-forty."

"Heh," Zack snorted at that. "There's a lot of smart suits walking around Shinra blabbing about _marketing psychology_ and _behavioral economics_, and in the end, we're all just shooting in the dark anyway. Why can't they just…you know…make good art?"

"That would require everyone who is supposed to be working in the creative industries to actually be working in them." Sephiroth glanced over at Zack, who bit down on his tongue and button-mashed like his fingers were cursing for him.

"Died again, surprise surprise…" Zack threw his hands up in mock-frustration, pretending to have the emotional capacity to be upset. But instead of passing it to Cloud, he held the controller up to Sephiroth. "Wanna shoot?"

Sephiroth stared at it for a moment, like he didn't quite have the schema to comprehend it but was willing to try. Zack's sword lay propped up against the wall with Cloud's rifle resting against it. Sephiroth added his own daikatana to the pile and somehow it all seemed right. He sat down with a thud next to Zack, taking up the dual-shock.

"What are the controls?"

"Up is up, down is down, X is shoot. Pretty straight forward."

Sephiroth played his turn, lasting past the first series of obstacles and peeling his eyes at the screen.

"There's a pattern to this level, the underlying coding is working on a skip-repeating algorithm, which makes absolutely no sense. No wonder you couldn't beat it."

"You're thinking completely outside the game in order to beat the game?" asked Zack.

"There is strategy in everything."

"That makes it so not fun. What's the point of even playing then?"

"Indeed. What is the point?"

He got to the part where Zack and Cloud died, passed it, beat the boss battle and handed the controller over to Cloud.

"Wow," Zack shook his head. "Angeal sucked at videogames."

"Angeal sucked at a lot of things," Sephiroth sighed. They continued passing the controller while Sephiroth sat there with them all night, playing videogames with the boys.

[Received System Shock]


	44. Chapter 39 - Chaos

The next morning came in darkness against grey skies. Seasons were changing in Nibelheim.

The SOLDIER and the pilot had vanished, not reporting back in for a full 24 hours.

AWOL.

Zack didn't blame them, but they'd still have to go after them. Give them a day's head start, maybe they'd find their own way off this godforsaken mountain by the time they got to them and then it would be way too tempting.

Trudging past Sephiroth's room, Zack heard whimpering from inside. He kept his distance out of respect. Cloud stayed in bed all day, barely moving, barely breathing, shallow breaths exuding from a sleep akin to death. Zack managed to get dressed, making it all the way downstairs, where he crashed out on the couch curled into a tiny ball.

This town had become their prison, nights stifling like the inside of a cave. In the shower shrouded by steam curtains, masturbating to the mental image of his evangelic darling, Zack whispered her name to the boiling water that flowed down his face like tears.

"Sweetheart, my beautiful Aerith, wait for me just a little longer."

He wished to the stars that they'd carry his voice across the void of time to her somehow, longing as he washed himself down the drain.

The next morning weighed heavy on their chests. Zack found himself taking deep breaths and turning over to go back to sleep…

Until a javelin crash-sailed through their window.

Cloud and Zack leapt out of bed throwing clothes on in a matter of seconds, and raced outside to find a scourge of Genesis clones attacking the town! The sounds of screaming mixed with windows shattering as Zack and Cloud dashed into combat-mode.

Zack swept up two clone sabers and went to town sending enemies flying. Something in his gut told him to save his sword—like he was going to need it soon. He heard a hard thud like a boot heel behind him. A clone went sailing back thirty feet at the chain-wrapped fists of a fifteen year old hellraiser.

"Tifa! What are you doing?" Zack called as she jumped back to back with him.

"You expect me to just lay down and die?"

Point taken. "Duck and dodge girl!"

And they split off to give hell to a bunch of copy-cats.

Zack heard shots fired, but not in his direction. Where was his flank? He saw Cloud posted up on a rooftop sniping for Tifa. Good man! He knew when to stick up for a younger girl.

In place of a bullet curtain, Zack turned to see a daikatana slice through a clone at his feet. The whip of silver hair streaked against the sky, Sephiroth had his back. Zack and the big man exchanged nods and raced to head off the insurgency.

At the town entrance, a few brave souls remained to shut the gates. Sephiroth and Zack leapt through them before they closed, leaving them on the outside to defend the village alone.

Dark monsters came with a flood of black mist. Chaos. They swept down the mountain like mutant phantoms while Zack and Sephiroth ran in with swords blazing. A monster leapt roaring at Zack, he slid on his knees upslashing the fiend in two halves. The clawed and fanged abominations gnashed and lunged at them as steel blades ripped open sides and impaled barreled chests. Once struck, the monsters disintegrated back into the black mist they came from.

Sweating and panting, Zack felt his life-gauge revitalizing. Sephiroth healed him. After ten minutes that seemed like an hour, the dark fog receded back up the slopes of the mountainside, but at its cusp Zack saw the clear outline of the dark faceless creature. The black-robed man receded with the mist, returning to a place the locals dared not tread…

Toward the Reactor.

Back in the town, people drove the clones away with pitchforks and shotguns, gathering themselves crying and shaken. Sephiroth picked up a toddler under a balcony and handed her to a crying woman who thanked him.

Zack did a visual sweep of the town, while Tifa ran into his arms sobbing. Cloud threw him a lazy salute from a rooftop. Everyone was accounted for…except for two AWOL SOLDIER's.

Now things were dangerous, they had to go after them. Six months and the Chaos had been calm, why now?

The townspeople organized a search team of one hundred members and fanned out into the forest, gridding for any trace of the pair. An hour later…they found them.

The two SOLDIER's lay dead in a clearing, impaled with their own swords.

A suicide pact.

Everyone shuddered as Zack and Sephiroth forced their way through the search party, Zack leading Tifa by the hand. As soon as he saw the grisly scene, he flung his arms around her, blocking her with his body.

No matter. She'd seen. He backed them away with her struggling not to sob, trembling in his embrace that clutched her so hard his elbows cracked.

Cloud saw this whole fiasco unfold like a forest fire, starting in a tuft of needles and crowning into the canopy. He ran as Zack took Tifa over to her father.

"I have to go take care of my guy. Can you wait here with your Dad?"

She nodded pale while Zack ran after Cloud. He found him hyperventilating against a tree with a fist clutched to a heaving chest. Zack grabbed him by the shoulders.

"CLOUD! Slow count back from ten Cloud…"

The boy didn't seem to know where he was, until he did as Zack told him.

"…9…8…7…"

"That's it…"

"…3…2…" he coughed and sputtered, taking deep breaths amid whirling eyes. Zack brushed his shoulders off, standing him up straight and knocking his chin up.

"Buck up now, you got this."

Cloud came back into himself in gradual deep breaths.

"Zack…?" He turned to see Sephiroth. "Will you come with me for a moment?" He nodded and checked Cloud, then followed the man away from the crowd.

Once at a safe distance, Sephiroth's confident rouse absolutely disintegrated. His hands shook in the slightest, he wasn't worried about keeping up an image around Zack anymore.

"I'm afraid I came off my medication too fast."

"You? Nah, you've been fine all this time—"

"I'm hearing voices."

Zack froze, his blood turning to stark ice in his veins. The communal breath seemed sucked clear from his lungs in a great gasp of the atmosphere. He had no idea it was that bad.

"It's just a bad streak. This week's been hell," he assured Sephiroth.

"Maybe. Nevertheless, I have a request to make of you. You don't have to accept."

"Anything."

"…My green vial. I still have it. Would you hold onto it for me?"

Zack put his hand on the big man's shoulder.

"…Of course I will, but it will never come to that."

A grateful nod, and in a quick motion he passed his vial to Zack, who pocketed it. Sephiroth turned in a foreboding rouse toward the place the Chaos had come from, and had returned to.

"What's up there?" he whispered in dark suspicion as Zack's own eyes peered at the overgrown trail up the mountain.

"…Probably an Argon gas leak, to be honest. It could be filtering through the forest having weird effects on the animals. Plus Cloud and I had the same dream last night about a monster at the reactor—"

Sephiroth shot his wide eyes to Zack, and his blood ran cold. They'd all had the same dream.

Cloud joined them after a moment, wiping his eyes.

"Are we going up to the Reactor?" he asked.

"Looks like we'll have to," Zack replied. But Sephiroth shook his head.

"Negative."

"Why not?"

"Orders from Shinra—a Zero code."

"Aw shoot," Zack cursed, orders from the President. "Did they give a reason? I know that would be totally out of character for them to actually fill us in."

"Turks jurisdiction."

"What? There aren't any Turks for a thousand miles!"

Sephiroth shrugged, it's not like he didn't think this wasn't stupid too. Zack groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Look, what's the worse that will happen if we go up there? They can't fire all of us."

"Executed for high-treason. I was given explicit instructions before deploying."

More like threatened. Zack stopped breathing. But an unlikely solution bopped over in the form of a fifteen year old girl.

"Ruffers, where are you?" Tifa skipped past them. "Oh, hey guys, I _lost my puppy_. I'm going to go look for him up _by the Reactor._ But I don't know my way around, I'll probably _get lost. _You guys are supposed to do Search and Rescue to serve the townspeople right?"

She started jogging up the trail by herself. A shared realization clicked like a lightbulb above their heads. What were they getting themselves into?

But before they started off, a village elder approached them, a squat man with tan features and a look of foreboding dread in his eyes. He plucked a feather from his hair and waved it around Sephiroth as if channeling universal energy, ululating in a slow song. Sephiroth cocked an eyebrow, but Zack put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's an honor," he explained, and Sephiroth acquiesced.

But when the man approached Zack, he put his hands on his big shoulders and spoke to him in a language Sephiroth couldn't understand. He pressed the bridge of his hand to the middle of Zack's face as one word slipped through. Ifah. When he finished speaking, Zack nodded—coherent. They found all their stats maxed and their health gauges full, but the man's feather still floated above Zack's head in golden auralence before disappearing. Phoenix Down.

With a look somewhere between gilded desperation and welling determination, Cloud, Zack and Sephiroth started up the trail after Tifa, solemn steps toward the Nibelheim Reactor.

.

[Received Talisman]


	45. Chapter 40 - Darkness

They hiked up the mountain with heavy footfalls, sullen steps marching to their funerals. Tifa trotted out in front to take point, but Sephiroth stopped her with a big hand on her shoulder.

"We aren't in need of a guide today. We're in need of someone to be _lost_."

And he passed her back to Zack. Cloud took up the rear guard, eyes shadowed under the visor of an infantry helmet.

They trekked through a forest of gnarled trees like claws, stretching in black furls of bark and floral blood. Roots held up the extending cliffsides like the half-eaten cores of apples. A tattered rope bridge almost snapped underfoot, a winding trail wove through an old mining cave, until the path broadened at the pinnacle of the mountain—a malefic fortress of industrial techno-horror.

The Nibelheim Reactor stood a condemned silo encased in sundering steam-stacks. And from its foundation, Chaos spilled like dark nitrous oxide, cascading in rolling waves of pitch to cloak the surrounding world in a luminescent nightmare.

Zack and Sephiroth approached the ascending metal stairs up to the entrance in a reserved silence, while Tifa jumped in next to them.

"I wanna come in too!"

Zack pursed his lips over at Sephiroth.

"Maybe we should bring her with us. It's dangerous out here."

Sephiroth shook his head.

"She'll be fine, as long as she has someone to protect her." He shot a sly glance at their rear-guard, Cloud shot a wide-eyed glare back at him, and Zack's own eyes lit up.

He was trying to get him to talk to her! Zack decided to be a dick and take the hint. Cloud would thank him later.

"Private Dingle! Take care of the lady."

Cloud's mouth hung open. His eyes became vengeful orbs as he stood in front of the stairs. Tifa sauntered after them, expecting this guy to maybe move or do the Macarena or something, but he blocked her firm.

Aghast, she crossed her arms in a pouting glare.

"Tsh, you better take good care of me then."

They entered the receiving bay of the Reactor, a semi-metallic corridor ringed in wires and tubing like a spider web in a space shuttle. Claustrophobia oppressed them, and as the corridor sloped ever downward into the earth, the droning null of turbine generators whined in heavy white noise, creating a spinning suction of the leaded interior air column, a radial building wave culminating in a distal, temperate roar.

As they neared the sealed blast-door, Sephiroth grabbed Zack's arm.

"Whatever we find in here, before we go any further, I want you to know that it has been an honor, and a pleasure serving with you."

But Zack _threw_ his arm off him, whirling on Sephiroth now.

"Aight that's it! You and Angeal! You're the biggest drama queens on the planet, always think the world is going to end over nothing! You're a couple of old women in a bridge club! It's just an argon gas leak. We're going to go in, fix it, end the Chaos and go home to our girlfriends. God, what could possibly be behind this door that can—"

Zack threw the door open, and they both wretched.

_JENOVA_.

The inside of the reactor was a technogogic temple of sacred technology, lurid crimson light bathing mauled machinery in a fulminating Black Mass. Contorted control panels and twisted power conduits emitted a hemorrhagic aura, while resonance like low muffled chanting stemmed from nowhere in drone-metallic echoes, whispering oracles muttering divinations.

The main chamber was sectioned off in ascending levels on catwalks, like pyramidal rows up to an unholy altar. Cryopods stood in rank and file like the industrialized intestine of a bee hive, and at the apex…their queen.

A rusted streak of some brackish red substance doused in drag lines up to a nuclear-grade blast door, splattering onto the metal façade like some ethereal warning. Letters laser-engraved over the steel frame, a name that meant the world to Sephiroth leered in an overhanging arc like his own moral code—the bane of absolute truth. The door to Jenova was sealed.

"What is this?" Zack whispered aghast.

Sephiroth stepped forward, whirling eyes spanning into the setraline nihil like it was meant for him. He stood a cursed suzerain, like a man who had looked upon Hell and seen his doom. The voices swirled in his mind, seething in a tantric hiss, a lulling harmonic hum that slit like snake's tongues in his phantom ear. A deluge of drumming pounded in his plastic cochlea and he realized…it was his own heartbeat.

He climbed the stairs to the first row of cryopods. On the floor in front of each one, candles had been lit behind pocket photos of SOLDIER's, dousing the doorframes in a catatonic glow. Dark sigils had been painted on the hatches in the same reddish-blackish substance that dragged up to the central doorway like a black carpet. On the outside of the frames around the egg-shaped pods, frantic scratches etched the iron, gouged in the metal like someone had dragged steel nails along the surface…_nails_.

Sephiroth stepped up with a foot on a connecting tube to grab hold of a pod's view-window, but once he looked inside, he collapsed back onto Zack in a shaking tirade.

"What is it?" Zack caught him, but the big man shook in spasms.

"See for yourself…"

Zack jumped up to grab onto the view-window, peering through the neon liquid to see what horrors lay inside.

A Medusian monstrosity floated in cryosleep, a furrowed vestige of codified flesh and gnarled bone over an appendage that couldn't be called a face, malformed with pulsating musculature visible through red membranes. An irradiated work of sickening bio-art, gene-splicing could not achieve what genetic mutation had perfected, save for one feature…

A mop of silver hair.

Zack toppled back onto the floor. The beasts that came with the Chaos, they came from here.

"What are they?"

"Monsters," Sephiroth gasped. "Abominations spawned by the Mako energy. That's what monsters are."

"But SOLDIER's aren't monsters! We're Mako-Infused and we're human! We're not—"

They realized the horrifying truth, sadistically confirmed by the wallet pics on the doors. The missing 2nd and 3rd Class SOLDIER's…they'd found some of them.

"_They pickled them in Mako!_" The blood rushed from Zack's face.

But these weren't Genesis Clones. Zack turned a leering eye on the big man who now stood shocked in the middle of the reactor, a slow gaze trained on him with steadily widening eyes.

"Jenova…your mother?" And then a memory slammed into Zack like a meteor, a remnant of his fight with Genesis in Modeoheim, where he'd heard her name before. "JENOVA CELLS!"

Slow breaths, sweat beading on his brow beneath silver bangs, he turned a wide-eyed gaze of horror into Zack's whirling irises.

"Angeal…Genesis…Shinra was mapping the cells of a monster onto SOLDIER's."

Trembling now, both of them, terror serrated like a blowtorch being lit while they were restrained. Zack's eyes couldn't get any wider, Sephiroth couldn't breathe any faster. Amid the careening rush of cold fear, Zack messed up, he asked a man on the verge of a breakdown a question…

"So what does that make you?"

_TRIGGER!_

Sephiroth lurched back. The voices shot from whispering to screaming, high-pitched wails exploding in his head. He clutched his temples staggering back as Zack leapt for him.

"Hey, Sephiroth!" he caught him by the shoulders..

To Zack, hands comforting; to Sephiroth, hands restraining. He flung him off the catwalk in such a violent rage that Zack went toppling. He jumped to run back to him but Sephiroth ran away, a hand waving out viciously begging for space. He wasn't seeing Zack right now. The images flickered in flareshots before the eyes of the big man who now felt so small.

_Zack…Lab coat…Zack…Lab coat…Lab coat…Lab coat…_

A rolling thunder, the ground shook underfoot, a cryopod burst open. Out toppled a mutagenic daemon in a rush of steamy agony. It bellowed and moaned an ear-splitting roar of pain as its flesh melted off its bones.

Sephiroth screamed drawing his daikatana, streaking in a flash to slice it to bits. He kept swinging, slashing cryopods into scrap-metal that flew in spewing heaps of singesteel tumult. Too riled to manage a single-slash, he bash-hammered the pods and all that lay inside to steaming, bleeding, oozing melancholia.

When all was destroyed, he stood in the heart of the reactor, eyes wide and sucking deep explosive breaths. He looked up as if he were four feet tall, gazing with the eyes of a small child at an authority figure who wasn't there. In the dark hull of some infernal prison, he finally remembered what had been blocked out for his entire life.

Shrouded in shooting steam, it all came crashing back.

* * *

He was five years old when he learned how to walk. They kept him in a cage. They called it a crib. It had bars and he couldn't get out. A rogue-intern snapped a polaroid of him that got leaked to the Press, at which protests and calls for his release ensued. When Child Services came banging down their door, he was reported already dead of natural causes and moved…to another laboratory.

What did it matter to the public, their sniveling sensitivities? They cared only for small, cute things. They'd care nothing for him if he were grown. He was property, patented, a specimen. And he was a failure...he would be discarded like the others.

But something showed up on a blood test one day. His DNA cells were merging with the host, matching in subsequent sequence, mutating to form co-efficient chains of ribonucleic acid. How was this possible? He was malformed, flat-footed, a slight bend in his spinal cord, an albino, and deaf to boot! Everything that could have possibly been wrong with a human being was wrong with him…and he was perfect.

After that, no more blood tests. He was hooked up to robotic prosthetics that taught him how to walk, shoved in front of a computer screen for 18 hours a day that taught him rudimentary language, while a box was affixed to his vocal cords to encourage him to speak…administering a shock whenever he slurred.

Life was a cold place for a little boy with white straw hair that draped his shoulders from neglect, his wide eyes scanned their environment while he huddled like a small monkey. One day he woke up in an empty holding cell on cold concrete floor, a glass screen walling him inside white cinderblock walls. The side of his head throbbed. He'd been surgically fitted with a cochlear implant.

Unfortunately for him, the room had been outfitted with surround-sound, and they did something terrible to him. The cell he was in happened to be a containment ward where they interrogated AVALANCHE members…They played the audio loop of their screams on full volume.

For a little boy who wasn't used to sound, it was torture. He threw himself screeching against the glass for 36 straight hours. When they finally came to collect him, they found him catatonic on the ground in the droopy-eyed face of trauma.

He was ready for Phase 1 of his programming.

He found himself standing naked alongside a bathtub. A man in a white lab-coat and pony-tail stood over him. He wrung arthritic hands as he knelt down to his level, speaking to the boy in a subtle maniacal drawl.

"Everything we do here, we do for science, for learning. It's good to learn things…"

For him, it was a nightmare. The man did things to him, things he would nearly kill his own brother for years later and not be able to put his finger on why. A primal instinct took over in his helpless state, and he fought back, vicious and ruthless breaking the man's glasses. The man threw him into the bathtub holding him under by the throat.

…A child should never be afraid to die.

The terror had only just begun for a tiny boy unknown to the world, locked somewhere deep in a cell unaware that the outside even existed. He slept on the same stone floor he went to the bathroom on, an overhead high-pressure shower spewing cold water down on him every morning to wash everything down a central drain. He shivered in a corner for hours to dry. But he knew he wasn't alone, the first coherent realization he had in life was the existence of monsters. He knew them as gas-mask men.

When the gas-mask men came, terrible things happened, things so horrifying he couldn't even scream, shocked into mottled silence. For the men themselves, they had a name for their treatment of him, a procedure that was part of his trauma-based programing:

Surgery to torture.

They strapped him down to an operating table while he was still awake. A tiny amount of local anesthetic was administered, but not out of mercy. They needed his mind to split into programmable partitions, not to break.

There was no fighting back, there were consequences for misbehaving. A cell at the end of the corridor, it was called "Hell," outfitted with fire sphincters that shot beams of flame from all sides. They stood him in front of it to watch the execution of an AVALANCHE member, burned alive in that hell of a room. When he misbehaved, they threw him in there. He screamed and clawed at the door until his fingers were bloody. They let him out only on the promise that he would never _misbehave_ again.

But one day a team of scientists took him from his cell, clutching him so tight around his thin arms that he lost circulation. They walked him to an antechamber wreathed in green ghastly light, a cryotank poised to receive a specimen.

He pulled back. All he knew was that if he went in that cryotank, he would never come out again. He fought for his life like a feral dog being taken for euthanasia, a primordial sense of doom driving him into a primal frenzy of fear and rage. Some latent ability manifested in him right then and there, a berserk surge of stats and strength wrenched him from their hands. The brilliant minds that created him had not expected this. They knew not what they had done.

He thrashed entranced and enraged out of their grasp, sinking fingers into flesh like knives. He ripped throats and esophageal lining from bodies like a screaming carnivorous beast. His teeth tore chunks of skin from limbs, excised ears and noses, gnashing in blood-fury until their imprisoning hands stopped moving.

When the SOLDIER's were called to neutralize the situation, they found him huddling in a corner covered in blood and entrails, crying incoherent sobs. But instead of wrapping him in a blanket and taking him someplace safe and warm, they drew their swords on him.

"_Get back! It's a monster!"_

* * *

Sephiroth stood back in that reactor, gazing up at the image of those SOLDIER's in their authoritative uniforms, catching a glance of the same uniform that now stood nearby him in his peripherals. Zack remained stone, no sudden movements, hands rising inches at a time attempting to reach for him. He needed to get a hand on him, to bring him back, but in the dark depths of his mind somehow he already knew, there was no going back.

The big man cowered like a little boy up into nowhere. He whispered as his hands moved on their own in unconscious signs.

"Am I a monster?"

And a dark angel's voice answered…

"_Yes_."

Zack and Sephiroth whirled as two Firaga bolts bash-flared for them. Zack took one in the chest while Sephiroth held out a denying hand, throwing up his Barrier. The Firaga smashed against the translucent shield dissipating to singed embers. Zack groaned on the ground thirty feet away, the golden feather the elder had blessed him with dissipating along with the blast. That Phoenix Down saved his life.

At the cusp of the forbidding stairs, before the unholy door loomed an evil angel, a Tiamat-red longcoat fluttering behind him in the midst of a charcoline wing. Genesis stood like an amaranth oracle, holding an outstretched hand to a broken Sephiroth. He knew just how to make it worse.

"You are the greatest monster, the shining star of all Jenova's children. Angeal, myself…and our little brother."

"Genesis!" Zack yelled from the ground. "What are you doing!"

"…Continuing the research of a great scientist, Dr. Gast, whom together with Hojo is responsible for our very lives. This facility is where they made the most monumental breakthrough in the study of the human condition. It's been turned off for many years, I simply…flipped it back on."

Sephiroth leered at the angel with a struggling furrowed brow.

"What is Jenova?"

"You don't know? She's our mother, Sephiroth! The host of whose cells were mapped onto our genomes in utero. You and I are true blood, as was our dear lost brother, Angeal."

"No!...My mother…"

Sephiroth gazed at the sky and the ground, at his hands in front of him, at the walls around him, while Genesis descended from the steps in an easy stride. He took a seat near the bottom of the stairs with a laughing smirk in his leering eyes.

"Poor little Sephiroth. I don't know what images you've conjured up in your head, but you've never actually met your mother. You've only been told her name, no?"

But that wasn't true. Someone was there. He remembered.

A lady. A nice lady. She'd come to get him.

* * *

When he was 11 years old, they took him outside for the first time in his life. Phase 2. He went black-bagged with isolating goggles into a chopper that flew deep out into the Midgar Wastelands. When they landed, they ripped everything off him, kicked him out, and threw a daikatana at his feet.

"Find your way back," they told him. Before they left him there in the wilderness alone, they did one more thing, one final act of sadism.

They took his implant.

He did find his way back, but not to the laboratory. He ended up half-dead in the Sector 4 slums, hiding out under a collapsed balcony next to a leaky water pipe. His mind took in the fact that there were people outside, but they were cruel to street children. Had he posted up a few blocks East in Sector 5, the Samaritan patrollers or the YMCA would have netted him and taken him somewhere safe…But he hadn't.

One day someone in a white lab coat found him under that balcony, and he screamed. He wasn't hard to find, there weren't many albino streetlings in Midgar with Mako-infused eyes. Something about this person wasn't like the other lab coats though.

She was the first person to smile at him, opening her arms to coax him out with soothing sounds. She signed to him in comforting slow movements, and something in his body wanted to be comforted by her. He moved against his will, obeying like a little kid has no choice but to do with an adult. She took him whimpering out of the Slums, clutching the daikatana to his chest like a teddy bear.

When he found himself back in the laboratory after all he had struggled and overcome, his entire being collapsed into itself. His body prepared to shut down, someone so young should not know how to wish for death. But then they rounded the corner into his holding cell, and he gasped.

The room had been furnished top to bottom, soft shag carpeting on the once cold floor and walls painted a cool summer green. Posters of safari animals hung like royal banners just for him, and a big toy chest with dinosaur figures splayed atop it sat right in his line of sight. No more shower attachments, no more surround-sound speakers, just a little twin bed with super hero covers and a big stuffed lion on the pillow. A little boy's bedroom.

From that day on, she spent all hours of the day in his room, engaging in a kind of remedial therapy for him. They played with blocks and Play-doh to develop his cognitive processing, board games and papercrafts got him to smile for the first time in his life, motor skills functioning was fun and games.

She taught him to speak using a popsicle stick to move his tongue into the right position, giving him a huge hug whenever he didn't pronounce his "s" like "sh." She kept his mind constantly engaged in new tasks, crayons and coloring books and stencils of flowers were his favorite. She asked him in sign-language _draw what you see when you sleep. _He drew bloody penises.

A bookshelf held her college medical manuals and volumes of classic literature. She wasn't able to get many children's books down to the laboratory. She had a mind to teach him how to read, she was blown away to discover he already knew how. She did have one book from when she was a little girl, a Golden Book called "Are You My Mother?"

She read it to him every night with him curled up against his stuffed lion, his daikatana stowed under the bed. He gazed dazzle-eyed at the pages as a little bird tried to find its mother, asking all the animals who'd tell their names to it.

"_What's my mother's name?"_ he signed harmlessly one night. She paused for a brief moment and spelled a name out one letter at a time.

"_J-E-N-O-V-A."_

As predicted, his attention span didn't latch, but he asked one more question that hit her hard.

"_What's my name?"_

She gave him a beautiful name, teaching him to make the sign for it as two hands with splayed fingers crossed into two wings over his heart. Each deaf person has their own unique way of signing their name, it's what makes them individuals.

It was frustrating at many times, his temper tantrums were the stuff of legends. Traumatized children need discipline even more than normal children, so they can comprehend their world. Bathing him was a nightmare with her having to resort to sponge baths in a basin. He had every behavioral problem imaginable and was beginning to exhibit symptoms of autism. She jumped on that quick, getting a TV in his room so they could watch movies together and he could learn his people-skills. No action movies for him though, the monsters in them frightened him horribly.

So their days passed in relative comfort and bliss, he watched her braid her hair back with nimble fingers. Playing games and practicing his letters on newsprint paper with oversized pencils provided more mental stimulation than he was ever used to. Together they partook in her guilty pleasure, reading the horoscopes on Sundays. She cradled him in her arms with the wall of the newspaper shielding them like sails, calling him her beautiful little scorpio before giving him the comic strips.

But all good things come to an end, he learned, when the gas-mask men returned.

This time however, he wasn't alone. As he hid under his bed crying in terror, clutching the daikatana for dear life, she stood up to the men with an authoritative voice that put them down, making them return to whatever hellish place they spawned from. She made the monsters go away.

After that, she installed baby-monitors in his room and rushed down whenever he woke up screaming in the night. She caressed his bangs out of his eyes to hush him back to sleep, sweeping her hand in eloquent flowing movements in front of them—her way of singing to him. Calm in the warmth of her eyes, fear evaporating in the security of her embrace, he signed up at her with wanting eyes.

"_Are you my mother?"_

She knew she shouldn't, she couldn't, everything they had would vanish. But with his lithe little body curled up against her breast, she caved with a sparkling smile.

"_Yes_."

He fell asleep content in her loving arms. This woman was his mother. Her name was Jenova.

Then one day…she was gone.

This time there was no one there to keep them from putting him in the cryotank.

* * *

"Jenova was excavated from a 2000-year-old rock layer. She's a monster, Sephiroth. Project G gave birth to Angeal... and monsters like myself. Project S used the remains of countless failed experiments to create a perfect monster."

Sephiroth staggered back as the dark angel advanced like a predator, looming for the kill. Genesis knew everything about him, every dark fear, every wreathing night terror, the childish parts that were hidden deep in his core were all mercilessly yanked out onto the floor at his feet to be trampled upon. Now the most powerful SOLDIER in Shinra was successfully rendered powerless, all according to plan.

"Sephiroth..." Genesis called to him in a sing-songy voice, tinged with the hint of authority. In his confused state, Sephiroth was programed to obey. "I need your help. My body is continuing to degrade."

His voice rocked the foundations of Sephiroth's psyche, it had been so long since he'd been activated, long enough for him to live a semblance of a normal life only to have it ripped away…a familiar feeling. He turned away from the snake of an angel working him into a down-spiraling crisis. Immobilized, brutalized, standing helpless and shaking like a child in the reactor, Sephiroth fought the programing with all that he was in life, and failed.

"What do you want of me?" he groaned through his teeth.

"Your traits cannot be copied onto others. You're genes can't be diffused. Therefore, your body cannot degrade. SOLIDER 1st Class Sephiroth!"

Sephiroth shot to Attention, now someone else held the controls, someone murderous and vile. With the last bit of self-control he retained, he did the one thing he could to defend himself—he turned his implant off.

But Genesis was a pariah. With leering, looming steps he approached his little brother, wrapping a strong hand around his chest and pulling him with a slow, gentle embrace back into him. A vicious gleam of hunger in his eyes, he pressed his lips to Sephiroth's jaw like a vampire.

"...I know you can hear me...you can feel my lips moving. Love me, Little Brother. Share your cells with me, let our bodies become one. Lie with me and save my life, like you wanted to once, so long ago."

He released Sephiroth from his embrace, but not from his command. He spoke in that theatric tone, that flourish of prose he was known for.

"_My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the Gift of the Goddess!"_

In a waving pose he extended his hand, offering Sephiroth an apple from Angeal's hometown. Dumbapples. Sephiroth gasped.

Zack still lay on the floor, agape at this mad fiasco going on before him like some bizarre display of performance art. _He knew_ what that apple meant.

_Sick!_

Sephiroth stood statuesque and paralyzed, transfixed on violet-fleshed fruit clasped in Genesis' hand. He got a look at his fingers, beginning to turn black, nails peeling off from the skin in rotting rings of necrosis. The flesh of the apple was the flesh of his hand becoming one with the non-living, morphing in the subtle early stages of undeath. Degradation.

But something clicked in the back of Sephiroth's swirling psyche, amid unwavering authority and blaring mind-control protocols that had tried to turn him into a machine, he found it, a loophole in his partition, his own philosophy, absolute truth. Computers cannot lie, and Genesis had unknowingly given him an impossible order. Sephiroth was able to fight back.

"Whether your words are the truth that I have sought all my life, or lies made up to deceive me, one thing is certain, my brother died a long time ago. He made me watch, powerless to save him from himself. And you…" He brushed his hand away, casting the apple aside. "You will rot."

Now Genesis stood aghast, and for the first time in his life, Sephiroth was free. He stood taller than his older brother, bigger, more imposing and powerful than any force of nature that could destroy him. One thing stayed his hand, honor.

This snake was not worth his sword, so Sephiroth abandoned him, walking from the reactor out of the door alone. Genesis stood for a moment in stunned reverence, then flipped the train of his coat following after him. Finally able to get his bearings, Zack healed himself leaping to his feet and ran out of the Reactor after them both.

Outside, he found Tifa fawning over the body of an outstretched infantryman on the ground.

"He tried to protect me!" she exclaimed. Zack ran over in a whirlwind to check Cloud's vitals, still breathing but unconscious. His helmet was buckled with his chinstrap so it wouldn't fly off this time. Fwew.

"What happened?"

"He ran after Sephiroth, but when that other guy came, he jumped in front of me. Took a Firaga and everything!"

_Again?!_

"Where did Sephiroth go?"

"I saw him heading for Shinra Manor."

"Here, help me get Cl—eh, _him_ back down to the Inn…"

Just then, Cloud's phone went off. Zack dug into his pocket to get it.

"Hello?"

"This is Command, we need to speak to SOLDIER 1st Class Sephiroth."

"This is SOLDIER 1st Class Zack Fair. We need to abort the mission."

"State the abort codes."

"GENESIS IS HERE! There's your abort codes!"

The line went silent for a long time, muffled discussion muttered in official sounding mish-mash in the background.

"Affirmative. We're sending an extraction team."

"We don't need an extraction team, we need the whole damn army! Mobilize a Strike Force and light the sky on fire!"

"Negative."

"Why?"

"Classified."

"Oh my god. We have the biggest terrorist in the world right in our iron-sights and you want us not to open fire?"

"Affirmative."

Zack threw his hand in the air. This was so insane!

"Permission to request a reason for the sake of bad commo?" Zack seethed through his teeth.

"We want him alive."

"So what do you want us to do?"

"Hold your position."

"Yeah, I'll hold my position…RIGHT OVER YOUR BENT-OVER BACKSIDE!"

*Click*

They hung up on him! The bastards actually hung up on him! He threw the phone in his pocket and hoisted Cloud's arm over his shoulder.

"C'mon we gotta move. Things are going to get really ugly really fast."

They got him down to the Inn with slow steps, easy does it. At the porch Cloud's phone went off again. Tifa took him up while Zack took the call…

"Hello?"

"ZACK!"

"KUNSEL?!"

"Zack oh my god you have no idea what I had to go through to get this number."

"Kunsel oh my freaking GOD bro you have no idea how glad I am to hear from you."

"Are you okay? We're worried to hell back here!"

"No man, everything's insane here, Genesis showed up and now our Team Leader's missing and the two other guys offed themselves in the woods and he's off his medication and Cloud's unconscious—"

"Whoa, slow down Zack! Take a breath buddy."

"Oh my god Kunsel, Sephiroth's mother turned out to be this monster named Jenova, something to do with Project G. He, Angeal and Genesis were all part of the same experiment and now he's freaking out at Shinra Manor, off his meds, hearing voices and hallucinating. I don't know what to do and it's just me and Cloud here holding it down."

"This is bad. How can I help?"

Zack thought for a hard moment. "…THAT GIRL!"

"What girl?"

"I don't know her name. I just know she's in SOLDIER."

"Uhh, I don't think so Zack."

"Look just find her! Tell her what's up. I know she'll know what to do."

"I'll try Zack, promise. You just be careful, we're hearing weird op codes thrown around like crazy back here. You come back to us alive okay?"

"Kunsel, I'll try my damn hardest."

"One of us, All of us. Oh shoot I gotta—"

*Click*

The line went dead. Zack raced up to Sephiroth's room to rummage through the Gris-Gris brand tote-bag that Sephiroth stashed his few belongings in. He found the last blue vial in a zipper pocket and didn't stop to think twice before bash-barreling back out of the Inn.

Shinra Manor looked like something out of a Dracula remake. Zack found the door burst ajar and ran inside, following the open doors as he went. They lead him down, through wood-floored rooms and spiraling stair cases to a freight elevator that was already at the bottom. Zack called it back up sliding the steel gate across, a deep breath, he descended…

Down...the grating of metal mechanisms…the shifting of echoing gear locks and hitches…an impact as the elevator touched ground and Zack threw the gate open. He found himself in stone-walled foundations, an underground cave area lit by torches that trailed off one way and not the other. Zack followed them.

Heart pounding in his throat, he ran through a massive open area shaped oddly like an arena for a boss fight, the torches guiding his path. A door ajar at the far end where the torches ran out, Zack ran in.

He found him. Sephiroth stood in the center of a stocked library, dust and cobwebs beading along the rims of gaslight overheads, staring transfixed down on a pine desk. His implant was off, he didn't look up as Zack stormed into the room. Catching a few breaths, he approached the big man with cautious steps, a hand up waving to get his attention.

"Sephiroth?" No response.

Zack was able to get within a few feet and tap the desk that Sephiroth rested a hand on. Only then did the man look up with a dazed expression, meeting Zack's eyes in a strange whirl. A hand up again, Zack came in peace, his other hand held the vial.

"…Your medicine…"

Slow now, calm now, he offered the vial towards Sephiroth's closest hand. No change in his whirling expression as he let the vial drop into his palm, staring down on it like it was confusing to him. Zack held his breath, all time seemed to slow. He didn't move a muscle as Sephiroth's eyes scanned its cylindrical mold like a computer protocol. Then the shaking man's fingers closed around the glass, okay, everything was going to be okay…Zack's other hand remained closed behind him, clutching the green vial.

A flash of rage, Sephiroth shattered the vial against the wall. Zack lunged with the Paralyze Materia but a huge fist knocked him back, clear out of the library to topple across the ground. The stomping of boots charged toward him, blind terror seizing him like death's fingers, helpless as a child for some psychotic reason. Sephiroth slammed the door to the library, Zack heard a locking click, and all was dead quiet in darkness.

.

[Received Black Cowl]


	46. Chapter 41 - Brotherhood

Cloud drifted through levels of unconscious sleep, dreaming in staccato snap-shots to a soundtrack of vinyl violins. Ravenhair twirled around his fingertips, pulling away. Desperate, he reached for it in darkness, drawing toward a faint light that grew more brilliant by the microsecond, until it blinded him in sheerglare. He squinted, and the light brought him back.

He awoke on his bed at the Inn, a splitting migraine pounding behind his eyes. Grunting in pain, he struggled to sit up, and found Zack waiting on his own bed across from him. A knowing grin crossed the SOLDIER's lips. He was glad Cloud was awake. How long had he been asleep? Furthermore, how long had Zack been watching over him?

"Tifa's safe, don't worry," Zack explained.

"How did you—"

"You called her name, in your sleep."

"…_Ngh_." Cloud curled up in an embarrassed heap, pulling his knees to his chest.

"You know her?" Zack asked, an even tone in his voice. He wasn't making fun of Cloud, he spoke like an older brother, like he already knew what was going on. Cloud shrugged at his mattress.

"…Sorta."

"You talk to her?"

"…No."

Zack remained quiet for a moment, letting Cloud gather himself. This wasn't like the time they'd guy-talked in Cloud's room. He wasn't pushing him. Cloud got to set the pace of this conversation, but when he didn't speak for a long time, Zack nudged him.

"…I sense an issue there…"

The young boy pulled in tighter, hiding his eyes under the bend of a forearm, but the older boy leaned back on his hands with that casual, relaxed air.

"…I'm up to talk…"

No use, Cloud turtled.

More silence, for a long time. Zack's shoulders slumped at the world. If Cloud wasn't going to talk, then Zack was.

"Teh, _I'm_ one to talk," he spat, more to himself than anything. Cloud glanced up to see a troubled furrow on Zack's brow.

"What happened?" he asked.

Zack was silent for a long time, like he was going to say something profound, and then…a huge sigh.

"I don't know, man…I thought I knew, but…"

He fell back, arms behind his head, like the whole world made no sense. A great groan, nothing mattered anymore.

They sat there together in a culminating silence as their world fell away. They might not have been government workers caught in the tangle of protocol, but college kids hanging out in their dorm room, commiserating about life and love and everything in between. Cloud felt it. He knew Zack felt it too.

"If only I were SOLIDER," Cloud sighed. "I could have…done more."

Zack lay staring up at the ceiling.

"SOLDIER is like a den of monsters. Don't go in."

Cloud cocked an eyebrow. Zack wasn't himself.

"Zack?"

But Zack stood up and strode to the other side of the room, where his sword rested against the table.

"I'm with SOLDIER so…fighting's all I do. Sorting things out is someone else's job. _What's going on? Who's the enemy? _It makes no difference to me!"

He grabbed his sword, swung overhead as if to strike an imaginary foe, and gave up with a great sigh. Instead, the sword ended up rested against his forehead in agonized prayer, as if it were the only place Zack could go for solace, that one thing he remembered in all this chaos.

"Sometimes, I don't even feel human anymore. Sometimes it feels like I don't exist, like I'm a machine. Break me down, oil me up again, send me back out to do my job. No one cares how much it hurts, stick a bandaid on it and get back out there SOLDIER. I'm the one who feels like a monster, just another arm in a long line of arms who've carried this sword. It's not even my sword, someone gave it to me long ago, and I almost forget who or why. SOLDIER? Tch, I'm a SOLDIER, but sometimes, I wish I could just fade into the ranks like another nameless grunt. Maybe then, I'd find peace, maybe then I could escape the truth. I don't own my sword…it owns me."

"Hey, Zack?" Cloud's voice carried to him across the room. "You know…I've never seen you _use_ that."

And then, it clicked. Something hit Zack like a meteor, his eyes flew open in awe. He looked at his sword in reverence, and the words of an old friend floated back to him, from a long time ago.

_Use brings about wear…tear…and rust. And that's a real waste. _

Ocean eyes gazed down on him, sparkling like sunlit waves.

_You're a little more important than my sword…but just a little. _

His own words came to him, from when he stood above the troop of rookies when he'd heard a calling in his heart. He remembered now, he remembered why.

_Embrace your dreams. And, whatever happens, protect your honor, always. _

Now he held his sword in a hotel room on some far away land, tears welling in his eyes. Somehow, amid everything, it all started to make sense.

"This sword is a symbol of my dreams and honor. No…it's more. That's right…I had almost forgotten!" And his eyes lit up like sunshine, a light that pierced through darkness and always would. He looked back at Cloud with that exuberant shining light.

"Thank you, Cloud."

"…Huh?" Cloud sat up.

Zack set his sword back against the table, like he'd figured it all out, like everything in the world made sense again. Everything was as it should be, everything meant anything, everything was okay.

He strode back swinging his arms out, the meaning of life becoming clear. Cloud sat up to hear all about it. What was it? What did it all mean! Well...?

Zack stretched, opened his mouth to speak, and…

"I'm gonna crash, night!"

"But—"

He flopped flat on the bed and was out snoring in seconds.

The next few days were a blue blur on Standby. Zack went to check on Sephiroth every day. The door to the basement library stayed locked, but the lights remained on. Despite Zack showing up at random hours trying to _catch _him, the lights were always on.

"Sephiroth?..." He rapped on the door with a knuckle, but when no answer came, his whole body sighed. "I don't know if you can hear me. You probably have your implant off…"

Still no answer, a cold, dead quiet exuded from the stone foundations. Zack waited, holding his heart in his hands.

"Look, I just want you to know I've been here, and I'm here to talk, if you want to…"

He held his breath, but the quiet grew, stronger until it engulfed him. Sephiroth answered in a silence akin to death. There was nothing Zack could do, he turned away heavy-hearted with a slump.

But a gnawing dread seized him. He threw himself against the door, banging and pounding on the solid oak like a raving child.

"Sephiroth please! Please just let me know you're alive in there!"

A book hurled at the door, and Zack jumped back. He'd gotten his answer.

Now there really was nothing to do, nothing he could do but wait in aimless solitude.

In hard, reluctant resignation, he left the basement library to ride the elevator back up. Clicking gears and whining hinges complained for lubricant, he pulled the metalmesh doors aside with a hard slump. Running a hand through dull black hair—a symptom of stress—he sighed to the dusted wood floor.

"Angeal…what should I do?"

[Received Element Blade]


	47. Chapter 42 - Love

_STANDBY_. The order was to standby. Zack knew now that the real horrors of war were the things you couldn't do anything about, the things you were forced to accept without contest. Now he watched the world fall apart around him, and could do nothing.

Nightfall in Nibelheim was always the same, sepia fading to dismal grey. An auric glow emanated from candlelit windows and the bonfire in the center of town. Zack did his rounds in monotonous sequence. He could practically do it with his eyes closed at this point.

He saw Cloud shuffling down the road, shoulders hunched with his hand in his shirt—he was hiding something.

"Whatcha got there?" Zack prodded.

"The solution to our Genesis problems."

And Cloud pulled out a bottle of Bacchus' Brew. Zack's eyes flew wide.

"OH MAN! You're a genius! Where'd you get that?"

"My mom."

"Jeez, your mom has a problem!"

"Why do you think I left home?" Cloud unscrewed the top, took his pull, and shoved it into Zack's chest. What the hell, why not? Zack took his pull still laughing.

They cajoled around town without a care in the world, sauntering down dead alleys that turned into stumbling down main streets. Half way through the bottle by the time they got to the bonfire, Zack flopped into a chair giggling while Cloud sat on a cooler next to him.

"Man, I'm kinda paranoid," chuckled Zack. "I hope I don't act like an idiot and start taking my clothes off or something."

"Don't worry, I'll watch you," Cloud reassured him.

"I like never do this."

"Really? I've been doing this since I was 13. What were you doing when you were 13?"

"_Tch_, getting laid."

Cloud laughed.

The townspeople all sat around the fire full of smiles and folk music. If the situation around them was dire the only thing they could do was try to enjoy the time they had left. Many of them were Native, many more than Zack thought at first, and he just now noticed different languages being thrown around. They gathered in a ceremonial circle singing ritual songs to ward off evil spirits.

And speak of the devil, Tifa bopped over and _sat on his lap._

"Hi Zack," she smiled like she was riding a horse side-saddle. His eyebrows shot to the sky.

"…Hey."

"What's up?"

_Wrong _question to ask.

"Uh…it's a two-letter word, usually means the opposite of down." He was so loaded.

She laughed with a little shove against his chest. "You're so funny Zack."

She was flirting with him, good God what was he supposed to do here? Her voluptuous backside curved into his midsection like memory foam. He wanted to stick his tongue somewhere gross and illegal.

"You should be careful about sitting there…You might get hurt," he warned.

"Oh well that's a boast now isn't it." And she flicked his pants. _Oh…My…Gawd._

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

"N-no, what I mean is you might get your heart broken. I'm practically a married man back where I'm from."

"Aw, how sweet, and she's not here…and neither is the Sherriff." She threw him a wink leaning over in an accentuated line to grab the bottle. Oh GOD she wasn't wearing underwear! She downed a big swig of Baucchus' Brew with Zack biting his lower lip…hard.

Leaning back on a hand with the top button of her vest undone, she watched him swallow hard as his mouth went dry. She was doing it on purpose. Now he was pointy and there was nothing he could do about it. Well he supposed everyone had to be pointy for a fifteen year old once in their life, scratch it off the bucket list of things to do before he died. This was so not fair, she had boobs the size of planets! Karma for snapping girls' bra straps in middle school, Zack was a hellraiser in that department.

A stray thought made him tense. Cute little girl…mean fighting moves.

"Please don't hit me in the crotch," he begged, and she giggled with fluttery eyelashes.

"So what's your sign Zack?"

"Uh, I'm a Libra."

"Awesome! I'm a Gemini! We'll get along great!"

Okay, party's over.

"Tifa, doll, I love you, but you've gotta get off."

A sly smirk, a wry grin from her dark eyes.

"…I'm working on it." And she adjusted herself on his lap. He went cross-eyed, sweating, the alcohol in his stomach hanging ten for a surf-party. _Bad medicine. _

She brought her face inches from him, eye-to-eye, flashing a mean smile.

"Staring contest. Go!"

He blinked. "You win. Get off."

"You're so unfair!" she pouted in a cross-armed tirade. "All you SOLDIER types are such _stiffs_. You won't even tell a girl she's pretty if it would make her feel good about herself."

"Tifa, I'm the only SOLDIER you know."

"Nuh-uh, it just so happens I know a SOLDIER, and he's a 1st Class, my blonde knight. If you got into a fight with him, he'd send you crying like a little baby back to your ball-and-chain honey-girl."

_"Really_?" Now Zack perked up, a glance out of his peripherals, Cloud was _biting his nails_! Ohhhh man! A million revelations swirled around in his alcohol-coated brain. He sat back like he was Santa Claus at story-time. "Tell me about this _SOLDIER_."

"Tell me honest first, Zack. Do you think I'm pretty? Be honest."

Oh lord, this little girl on top of him and this little dude freaking out next to him were perfect for each other. They both had the self-esteem of an ant-farm! He fought the urge to roll his eyes at the pouty primrose perched on his _perch. _Instead he lifted her chin with a delicate finger.

"Tifa, you are beautiful. You are wonderful. You are amazing. And you are going to find a great guy who respects you and loves you for everything you are, is into all the same things you are and is crazy about you."

But she let her gaze fall, a sad shaded look crossing her smoky eyes.

"You're a great guy, you respect me, we're into a lot of the same things…do you love me for everything I am?"

She was serious, not playing around anymore. Her wanting eyes begged him for an answer she knew was coming and didn't want to hear with all her heart. Fifteen years old, crushing on an older guy, the kind of girl who'd cry over a two-week break up and she'd known Zack for half of her freshman year. Pain etched her delicate rouse. Zack did genuinely like her, and if they'd met four years later…things would be much different.

He laid a big hand on her thin knee, clutching her like she belonged to him for a moment, and gazed into the well of her watering eyes.

"Tifa, you're my perfect-ten, but I know for a fact I'm not yours." A cushioned blow, she drifted into reminiscence. Was it that obvious? Was she really that easy to read? Zack tossed a little grin her way, a side-smile like he knew her, he got her, his little Hellraiser. "So c'mon…who's this guy who can beat me up?"

She cast a defeated little smile back at him, and with a heavy heart, sighed up at the sky.

"He is my best friend, the greatest guy in the world. I remember sleepovers when we were twelve and my dad was in the city. We'd watch Bill Nye the Science Guy in our undies. He was my Valentine every year since kindergarten. I tried to take him to our 8th Grade prom, but he said he couldn't dance. We'd go skinny dipping at the lake in summer…well, _I'd _go skinny dipping but he'd be too scared to take his shirt off and just talk to me from the bank. I could always talk to him about the boys I was sweet on. He'd never get jealous or be mean. I came to _all _his baseball games, holding posters and pom-poms. When he struck out, I'd jump up and down cheering for him and throwing confetti. I even got a couple other people in the bleachers to get in on it! I wish I could see him again, it's been so long, he's probably forgotten all about me, being a SOLDIER 1st Class and all…"

Airy and soft, she reclined back against Zack's chest. Her head rested on his shoulder, cheek to cheek as he tensed, the waft of stallion hair tinging in his nostrils.

"…He's so brave, and courageous, and sweet too. Not a _jerk_ like you."

At that, Cloud stormed off the cooler knocking it over as he ran, at which Tifa didn't care seeing as she was too busy being enamored against another big SOLDIER's chest. Zack made a mental note to thank Cloud later, this was one of the wildest situations he'd ever been in! But now the situation _directly _in front of him had to be dealt with…he pulled a safety pin out of his pocket.

"OUCH!" Tifa leapt off him.

"WHOA WATCH OUT!" Zack leapt up after her.

"What was that?"

"A spider! Careful don't move! It might be poisonous!" He looked around in a frantic rush. "Here see if you can find it, I'll go grab a jar."

And he dashed off away from the fire.

Cloud charged around to the watertower, throwing himself against the frame. He sucked air through his teeth, kicked a metal bucket and punched a beam as hard as he could. _That hurt_. Shake it out. Walk it off. Suck it up.

But when Zack appeared around the corner stumbling like a drunken idiot, he did two things: He threw his hands out at Cloud. He threw his hands back at Tifa.

"You…Her…_Whatthefuuuh_?"

"It's complicated," Cloud groaned.

"Not from where I was sitting! She's throwing herself at you brah!"

"She doesn't like me, Zack! She likes guys like you!"

"Yeah they all do, and they _marry _guys like you!"

"Look her dad hates me."

"Well yeah, she's a nympho and _you have a penis!" _Zack's hands flew up by his head, like it blew his mind. "WHY have you not gotten on that?"

Now Cloud sighed, rubbing the back of his head. It was time to come clean.

"When I left home, I told her I was running away to go join SOLDIER. But when I got there, they said I was too young to get recruited. So I thought I'd do a year in the Security Branch to train up."

_"Oooh, bad idea." _

"I enlisted, and they told me how it really was in SOLDIER, and that I'd never make it because I'm too puny and I shouldn't even go out for it. So I didn't."

"You let the _groundpounders _talk you out of _SOLDIER_!? Wow, you're an idiot!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to lie, but Tifa kept writing me asking how it was in SOLDIER, and I didn't have it in me to tell her I didn't follow my dreams and that I'm a complete failure. I didn't mean to tell her I was a 1st. I got carried away. I'm just a dreamer, I'm no hero. I'm such a loser."

"Cloud, I once told a chick in Red Leather I was Genesis to get her to do filthy, disgusting things to me. You did it for a girl, it's understandable."

"But now I can't live up to her expectations."

"Cloud, she doesn't care if you're a janitor at Shinra!"

"It doesn't matter. I lied, and I just have to accept the consequences of my actions."

"Aight, cool, now that you've _'accepted' _everything, GO TALK TO HER!"

Zack flung his hands at the fire, and Cloud stammered in a frantic whirl. Looking back and forth, there were no other answers, _you're on your own kid. _

"What am I supposed to say?"

"Just go up to her, take your helmet off, shake your hair out and kiss her."

"No way! _She'll hit me!"_

A relishing smile crossed Zack's face. "That's so hot."

_Now _Cloud was freaking out, biting his nails, wringing hands through hair that refused to stay down. Zack caught him by the shoulder.

"Look, come here, let me show you something." He pulled a neck purse from the zip-pocket of his fatigues, and from that a small box wrapped in black velvet. He flipped it open with a thumb, and Cloud gasped—a demantoid garnet engagement ring. "I had the guy at the Wall Market infuse some of my Fire Materia into it. You think she'll like it?"

Cloud stood stunned, eyes of awe up at Zack. "You really weren't drunk!"

But now _Zack _rubbed the back of his head. "…Not drunk enough."

Cloud gazed at his older friend, now _he _was fidgety and tense. A sense of something powerful and binding overcame Cloud, and he no longer felt alone. He saw Zack ringed in an aural halo, strong and imperfect, weak and committed. _Committed. _

"Are you nervous?" Cloud asked.

"Of course!" Zack exclaimed. "I'm a young guy and this is a big step! I'm an idiot though. I didn't do it before I came here like I should have."

"Why not?"

"Pfft, I was _scared_. I mean, we've been through a lot, what if she says no?"

"You really think she'd do that?"

Zack shot him a flat stare. "You really think she'll hit you?"

But Cloud still hesitated, wincing and debating. Zack thought maybe he was hesitating about _her_ in general, and put the ring away.

"…Look, Aerith isn't my perfect ten, and I'm not hers either, but it doesn't mean we can't become each other's. That's half the battle, and half the fun! If you run around thinking 'oh I can find someone better' then you'll miss out on the solid nine-point-nine's right in front of you."

"But if she's not perfect for you, then why are you going through with it?"

"...Because she's good to me. And at the end of the day when the lights go off and you crawl into bed together, that's the only thing that matters."

"_ZACK!_" a girl's voice called behind him. Tifa ran up with hands on hips. "There was no spider, I looked."

She held up a safety pin with a squint. _Busted. _

"You owe me an apology!"

But Zack threw Cloud a wink, and started over to Tifa, which of course made her irate.

"Don't walk away from me mister!" But Zack swooped down and _kissed _her cheek. "YOU JERK!"

A sudden anger seized Cloud, and he stepped forward. He hadn't meant to, it'd been pure impulse, reflex. He didn't even realize he'd been meaning to square up with his best friend. _Wow, girls_.

But Tifa wiped the glare off her face, and Cloud froze. Who was this guy who had just stood up for her? He'd never said a word to her in six months, always looming, always tagging along with Zack like his little puppy. But his eyes seemed so…familiar.

Realizing there was no way out, that this was the end of the line, he took off his helmet.

"CLOUD!" Tifa threw her arms around him.

Zack sauntered away like a savior to go find a park bench to pass out on.

[Received Jail Cell Keys]


	48. Chapter 43 - Virtue

Zack patrolled the outskirts of Nibelheim, nursing one hell of a hangover. At the little park, he stopped short catching sight of Cloud and Tifa. They were sitting on top of the monkey-bar dome. Cloud's helmet was off and their shoulders were touching. Zack turned straight back around and walked the way he came.

Meanwhile, Cloud sighed with a long gaze fixed on the fading horizon-line.

"…So that's it. I don't really know what I was thinking. I tried to be everything I told you I was. I tried to be everything you wanted. But I'm not strong enough."

Tifa sat next to him in solemn thought, taking all of this in. Her eyes remained on the glittering sand as she remained silent for a long moment.

"Is that why you lied about being SOLDIER, because you didn't want to disappoint me?"

Cloud hopped off the dome with his rifle slung over one shoulder, and Tifa followed. They shuffled over to the swings and sat down, while she twisted the ropes of hers to face him.

"I just…wanted to be more than what I am. I wanted to prove that I'm not just some cut-out character with the personality of a paperclip. I wanted to earn my right to exist, deserve the air I breathe. I didn't want to come back to you as just some mama's-boy from the middle of nowhere…I wanted to come back to you a hero."

"After hearing the stories you've told me, I think you're pretty heroic anyway."

"…I'm still not _your_ hero though. I'm still not a SOLDIER."

"Cloud, I don't care if you were a janitor at Shinra."

_Dammit_, he hated when other people were right about him.

"Why would you think I would want you any different than you are?" she asked, and he fidgeted at the ground.

"I saw you sitting on that big strong SOLDIER's lap. I could never live up to that."

"CLOUD!" she twisted out of her swing and planted herself on _his_ lap. He gasped upright. "I only did that because I missed you. I thought you were in SOLDIER, and he kinda reminded me of you."

"Really? _He _reminded you of _me_?"

A small smile, and a quick nod let him know whose little hellraiser she really was. Now he held her leg steady so she wouldn't fall off his lap. Unlike Zack, it wasn't possible for Cloud to shift and _hide _anything. Little guys like him were never little everywhere. Cloud blushed the color of the tangerine sky and threw her a sheepish smirk.

"…So, Blonde Knight huh?"

And the breeze blew strands of ravenhair in his face. He didn't blink as her eyes locked with his, soft and strong against the fading sky. She'd always been tougher than him. It's what he loved about her. Now she sat nestled in his lap like she belonged to him, and a surge of mad energy ripped through him. He felt braver than he'd ever known he could be.

With furrowed brow, he went for it. He kissed her.

Chapped lips split, teeth banged together like a xylophone. A lip-locking seal more akin to waterboarding made breathing a challenge. He almost passed out holding his breath. He sat with his arms around her as a sledgehammer bash-battered his left ventricle. Heartrates this high killed people.

He clutched her tight in his arms the way he held her back in 7th grade when they'd snuck into the woods to play Truth or Dare. Their truths got racy, and their dares became intimate. They passed the "show-me-yours" part of the game without letting the nervousness beat them, and got as far as touching themselves before the long hug dare with their pants around their ankles…which is where her father had caught them. She'd picked "truth," and he never got to take that final turn.

Enough was enough. He came out with it, after so long.

"Do you want to be with me?"

"Can I?"

"I want you to."

"I want to."

And that finality shot in static beads through his heart as he kissed his first girlfriend against the sunset.

By the one-hundreth kiss, it was second nature. They found themselves tonguing it in the dark all the way back to the Inn. They clamored up the steps trying not to make a racket, failed, and stowed away into Cloud's room that he shared with Zack—who was still out on patrol.

_*Lock* _

_Sorry buddy. _

Cloud and Tifa pressed against each other in the dark, hands wandering like a petting zoo. He eased his rifle off against the wall with the safety on—Cloud was big on _safety. _

"Hold on a minute…" and he scrambled to the dresser to dig through Zack's sock drawer.

_What the heck? _He couldn't find any! What kind of a guy like Zack didn't have condoms! The answer hit him with a smirk, something the gods of bro-code forbade him from ever using against his best pal.

_Someone who wasn't getting any. _

"It's alright! I'm on the Pill," Tifa assured him. Nothing ever told him to _lock-and-load_ more in his life. She grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him onto the bed, where they toppled like a Jenga tower.

She was practically ripping his uniform off! He didn't know how he ended up naked in his Infantry boots but he was cool with it. Nails digging into his back, demanding him down on her, a sense of titanic expectation dawned on him. He had _no idea _what he was doing.

Her hips thrust up into him, but this was harder than he thought. _What the heck why won't it go in!? _Now his nerves were a bloody mess. That rifle may as well have been cocked at his head. Jamming himself at her over and over was getting nowhere, until she manhandled his manhood where it needed to go. He slid into her like dry plastic, and felt…absolutely nothing.

_This is it?_

Somehow all of those masturbation fantasies fell flat as he tried his best, a rhythmic jostling that had his hips cramping up. Slight warmth came over him that he couldn't even enjoy for fear of displeasing her. He begged his arms not to give out on him.

She must not have been feeling it either as she flipped over on all-fours, pulling him into her. _Oh God. _What was he supposed to do here? He knew what was supposed to happen _in the movies_ but this was like some speed-timed event on a foreign-language game show. _Door Number One or Door Number Two?_

"Hurry up!" she called. He went for it. "OUCH!"

He lurched back, curled into a ball at the edge of the bed. The wave of shame hit like the principal's paddle from primary school. He could hear the Primarch yelling that he'd strayed from the "path," whatever that meant. Now her slick was on him, and he cringed up with boots pressed tight to his bare thighs. He was a disgusting urchin, an insect, a sick pervert who should go find a bridge to jump off.

A soft brush swept the skin of his arm. She reached for him as he choked back tears.

"…It's my first time."

"It's alright," she reassured, calling him to her. She coaxed him with light whispers out of his shell, and got him to lie rigid next to her. She talked to him like she used to when they would go swimming by the reservoir, running her hands over his body in slow sweeps. Her heart broke as her fingers traced the jutting indentations of his ribcage. He still had that problem.

She liked his arms, and said she wished her arms were like his. Cloud assured her she didn't. Everyone would grab them all the time.

"Well it's better than where they grab now!" she pouted, to which he responded with a little squeeze of his own. She squeaked and pinched him, and they were in a knock-down-drag-out tickle fight that ended with her hands around places that made him go limp.

Slower now, she crawled over him and took it from there. The soft satin flush of her warmth invaded him, like a hot-rock massage on the inside of his brain. Now he understood why people made a big deal about this.

Her weight pressed against him in a mind-exploding flood of vibration, cradling his hips in a silk suction that gave him an out-of-body experience. Immobilized, enslaved to her sweet umbra, he gasped in the wake of new sensations. Waves of soft elation swept his body, like he was waking up for the first time. She moved in a possessive flourish with hands planted on his chest to give him a full view of her curvature, the sight of him entering her through thick thighs that he could enjoy for the rest of his life.

Too bad he came like a cheap squirt gun in the first three minutes, or a gardening hose that someone kept turning on and off.

"…Sorry…"

She giggled and bit his nose. They cooled down for a few minutes—let him _recharge—_before she got antsy. He'd gotten his, now it was her turn.

She put her cowgirl hat on and took him to church.

Zack got back exhausted from hiking laps around the town. He dragged himself up the stairs, down the hall, went to turn the handle but _pulled back. _An ear to the door, and eyebrows shot to the ceiling. Tifa and Cloud were going at it like they were trying to break the bed! Zack didn't blame them. That was probably years of buildup they were sorting out. He was glad to know the kid was at least taking his advice.

_For you, think plank. You are a flat board, just lay there and let her screw your brains out. Make like a dead fish, let her flop around on top of you. SLUG! Think slug!_

While Cloud was busy _losing his virginity, _Zack pulled his hand away, patted himself on the back, and went to find a couch to sleep on.

When the sun came up in the crisp morning and they walked out of the Inn together, Cloud stopped cold at seeing Sephiroth leaned against the wall on the porch. He gasped, breath fogging up before his face as he exhaled, but none fogged up in front of Sephiroth's. He stood there with arms crossed, looking down at Cloud who now pulled a girlfriend in tow with a subtle glint of satisfaction, a warm glow emulating from ethereal irises. He seemed like he was there just to _look _at Cloud, like a father violating a custody order to see his child. As Cloud gazed back at the big man with a look of reverence, he felt the one thing in his heart he wanted to say to him.

_You taught me to be brave. _

"Hey Cloud?" asked Tifa. "What are you looking at?"

Chills ran up Cloud's arms as Sephiroth stood up off the wall and walked down the steps of the Inn. The big man with silver hair and warm cerulean eyes became translucent as crystal glass, fading like mist into the fog.

Cloud stood there for a long moment before the brush of soft fingers brought him back. He took his girlfriend's hand and walked with her down the steps. She had to sneak back through her window to make it look like she'd been home that night. Wrapping her arms around his neck, he pulled her in for a soft kiss.

"I'll see you later," she smiled, and took off down the road to her house. Zack meanwhile trotted up to him as he headed into town.

"Hey!"

"Hey."

Zack held back a huge grin with all his might as he caught the dark rings under Cloud's eyes. The kid hadn't slept a wink. With hands in his pockets trying to keep from bouncing up and down, Zack strolled next to him.

"I slept on the couch last night," he mentioned off hand. "Kinda hurt my back."

Cloud threw a coy smile. "Well, you deserve it."

"Aw what for?"

"Kissing my girl."

_Ohh_ Zack could barely contain his excitement. He held in the urge to jump all over him, pick him up and parade him around town! He was so proud of the little guy! Now he was bouncing up and down, and his smile crept in wincing pain across his face.

"…You know, I forgot to mention that it was YOUR MOM'S COUCH!"

And then they were running, Cloud chasing a laughing Zack with flaring fists as they went.

But what the hell was going on with Sephiroth up at the Manor? They couldn't take much more of this. It had been six days…

[Received Promise Ring]


	49. Chapter 44 - And On The Seventh Day

On the seventh day, they'd had enough. Zack went charging up to the manor hellbent on dragging Sephiroth out sane or insane, even if he had to beat him to a bloody pulp first.

Round the lighthouse on the trail up to the mansion, a ray of hope shone down on Zack like a gift, a_n iota of cell reception! _Enough at least for one email to get through for a split second. His phone buzzed with the alert.

* * *

To: Zackfair21_**at**_SOLDIER_**dot**_Shinra_**dot**_mil

From: xKunselx353**_at_**SOLDIER**_dot_**Shinra**_dot_**mil

Re: My Baby Pictures

Zack!

Sorry I had to name this something stupid or they'd read it. I found her! Didn't even get a chance to finish explaining what happened before she stormed off to find Doctor Hojo. I heard they had to sew things back on, eek! Anyway, she wrangled Sephiroth's birth certificate out of him (can you believe that creep Hojo is _his father!?_). I attached it as a .JPEG to this email. It's the best I could do, hope it helps somehow.

Stay safe buddy,

Kunsel

P. S. She says "bring him back alive or don't come back at all."

* * *

Zack _ran _to Shinra Manor fast enough for the Olympics. Bash-barreling through the doors into the foyer, he almost tripped at the elevator. He ripped the metalmesh gate aside so hard it broke a hinge, and sprinted through the basement. Kicking a crate out of his way, a swarm of scarabs flew at him and he flailed back crashing through a side-door to a drab storage room, falling over some long oak crates.

When the dust settled and Zack collected himself in a foolish heap, he stopped. What was that sound?

_"ZZZZzzzz." _

_Snoring?_ He gaped at the oak storage casks…

_Ho-ly-Hell. They're coffins._

One of the lids had been jarred aside from his fall. He peeked inside and lurched back.

"Oh my God, there's a person in here!"

A pale rogue with a mane of dark hair and angular cheek bones lay bound in carnelian leather, a dhampir cloaked in blood. He emanated an unearthly hue in his state of timeless, dreamless sleep.

"Hey! Wake up!"

Zack shook the body, and the sleeping figure stirred. Blacklight rays emanated from his self-imposed tomb as his body levitated out of the box. He spoke in a flat voice, dark and monotone, deader than deadpan like the coffin he'd slept in.

"…_cough…cough…_Clandestine Operation: Swift Fox. Op Code: Silver-Five-Silver. Special Agent Vincent Valentine reporting in."

"You're a _TURK_?" Zack exclaimed. The red ghost merely blinked in a haze.

"Where's Lucrecia? Where's Dr. Gast? Where's Sephiroth? _Where's Hojo?_"

"You know Sephiroth?"

"Sephiroth Crescent, Lucrecia, where are they? Where am I?...Who are you?"

"I'll explain later, forget about Hojo, we have to get back to Shinra!"

The red ghost hovered in prophetic auralence for a long moment, studying the strange boy with a sword the size of a semiconductor. A light seemed to turn on in his eyes, like he'd finally woken up. He took a breath to speak, and…

"…Not interested…"

He crashed back into the coffin, closing the lid.

Zack hurled it open and grabbed the man's arm.

"—Come on, you have to help me help Sephiroth!"

"Uh, whuh, where are you taking me?"

With this red Turk's arm over his shoulder, Zack dragged him through the basement. The man's legs were akin to a newborn giraffe from sleeping in a _coffin_ for so long. At the archway to the library, Zack leaned him up against the wall.

"Wait here."

"Well, it's not like I can _run off_ now is it."

Zack didn't reply. He built up as much speed as he could and shoulder-bashed straight through the door. Stumbling inside, the first thing that hit him was the smell.

The air was fetid, the pungent stench of urine filled Zack's nostrils. He gaged. The library was strewn with loose-leaf papers, while glaring UV light cast down in floodlamp sheen. Books had been stacked in rummage heaps on the floor, and leaning over the desk, Zack saw him.

Sephiroth leered like an undead cast of plaster, tearing over tomes of techno-quniform. Disheveled and deranged, he shook in mad bursts that rocked his entire body. Bulging veins popped out of his trembling hands like cyborg wires, and when he lifted his face to stare at Zack, his bloodshot eyes were ringed in a charcoal pallor like death. He hadn't slept in seven days.

Zack stood firm, taking a strong step toward the big man.

"Sephiroth, let's go. We're going home now." He wasn't playing around anymore. Zack gave the orders now, and he knew Sephiroth could hear him.

A feral flash of fear and rage filled Sephiroth's wild eyes, but Zack didn't back down. He motioned with a hand for Sephiroth to come to him.

"Let's get you back to the Inn. We leave in the morning."

A sharp gasp, Sephiroth pried himself away from the desk, skulking like a phantom around the room. He huddled like an old man into himself, contorted hands wrung by his face and eyes in agony. His hair was now frizzed and matted from running his nails through it, the first time Zack ever saw him like that. Incoherent muffled muttering escaped his lips, guttural growls like snarling.

"…chosen by the planet, we're all monsters, we were supposed to be free…Jenova will be at the Reunion…Jenova will join the Reunion…becoming a calamity from the sky…"

Zack didn't know what was going on in this bizarre behavioral spaz, but he held his ground amid the whirlwind of Sephiroth's mind-blindness.

"Come on, Sephiroth. Let's get out of this dungeon."

He moved to collect the man, but Sephiroth _lurched _around. Zack stopped as a glare like daikatanas flew from the man's demonic irises.

"You…traitor…you're all traitors."

Zack stood very still, Sephiroth's sword was still sheathed on his back. The big man shuffled in hunched circles, dragging his feet on the floor.

"It was started here, the Jenova Project. That's why I felt like I've been here before…I was born here. No…I was _created_ here. Hojo, Hollander and Gast were trying to recreate a Cetra from Jenova's cells so they could mass-produce an entire army of hyper-powered warriors. You ordinary SOLDIER's are Mako-infused, but you're still human. You still need to be surgically modified to use the power of Mako, and then only in limited levels. It takes a SOLDIER like you a lifetime of training to obtain even an _iota _of the power a Cetra can procure with the wave of a hand from infancy. Producing Materia for you, training you how to use it, and enhancing you so that you can even equip it…billions of dollars, gone in the blink of an eye. Imagine SOLDIER's born with fully-leveled magic stats, who don't need to use Materia at all, who could harness terrestrial powers straight from the planet's core without even breaking a sweat. The Jenova Project was the ultimate weapons development program, and it worked. Mako put nuclear fission out to pasture, but _Cetra_ would put Mako production costs on par with buying a stick of bubble gum. That is what I am to Shinra, a golden power rod to your stick of gum."

"And you believe all this…?" Zack threw a bewildered hand skyward.

"The notes are complete, experiment logs infallible, everything filed and catalogued, the truth is undeniable. The end is nigh…"

"Reading Shinra reports written by _Shinra_? That's like asking SOLDIER to do our own performance audits. We'd pass with flying colors every time!"

"READ IT! IT'S ALL THERE!" Sephiroth _flung_ an armload of books at Zack's feet and paced in a mad shamble about the room. "It all started with the deity Necron, a divine calamity whose ultimate aim was to return this realm to the Zero World—a world without Crystals. When he was destroyed, another took his place…"

Zack squinted at the sheer inanity of these ludicrous statements. "Sephiroth…WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

But something flashed in Sephiroth's eyes, a dark awakening, like a forlorn curse had been uttered in blaspheming doom. The madness drew back for a swift moment, curtains of coherency flaring like absolute truth. Sephiroth stood straight like a dark prophet, and uttered a word straight from the divinations of hell itself.

_"Methuselah_."

That name, why did it conjure images of a cold draconic devil holding up a meteor? Zack's breaths went silent as Sephiroth continued his mad rambling.

"Eons ago, Ifah came to this world to play. Eons after, Methuselah followed her…to feed. She and he are one, she is his Goddess, he is her Lifestream, but her power kept the planet safe and him at bay. So he sent his unholy harbinger Jenova to destroy her…She succeeded.

"The Ancient Ones were left behind—Ifah's children who abandoned the old ways became the humans, while the Cetra refused to relinquish their power over the planet and were slaughtered without mercy. Your kind are the Soulless Ones, you converted to save your own lives, abandoning the ways of your heritage to become the energy sapping leeches you are today, the gluttons of society that Shinra stands to empower."

Sephiroth's fists balled in desperate tangles of rage, but as he glanced up to meet Zack's eyes, his own expression filled with pained urgency.

"But Ifah lives! It was right there the whole time in Loveless: _Even if the morrow is barren of promise, nothing shall forestall my return_. You saw the play, do you even know what it's about? It's an epic over 2000 years old. Ifah will take a human lover though she knows she cannot keep him. The child that is born from their union shall be named Orphan, and will bring about Ragnarok—the battle at the end of times. The ending of the play was added later by thieves in Alexandria looking to steal money from plebian theatre-goers, but the play is left open by design…because it is still going on. None know its meaning, Genesis died trying to figure it out, but after coming here, I now know the truth. Jenova _is _Ifah! That's why she died! She sacrificed herself to save her children from the clutches of her dark assailant. There can be no other conclusion! It must be true! And I am Orphan, her bastard child sent to bring about Ragnarok and end the world as we know it."

"What the hell are you talking about!" Zack screamed. Sephiroth's eyes fell in a dark scowl, impending doom so profound and austere flooded from his core like antimatter. With a deep voice, he uttered a premonition with such finality that it vibrated the space between where the two men stood like cursed suzerains.

"Meteorfall."

Zack couldn't believe what he was hearing, everything was so bizarre, the level of strange occultism pissed him off beyond words. Everything was so…stupid! How could Sephiroth buy into such banal conspiracy theories? Zack whirled his hands around his head trying to wrap his mind around this sheer lunacy. So many things to say, trouble picking just one.

"This is bull—"

"It's all here!" Sephiroth shouted. "I can't deny what's right in front of me anymore! Jenova is His dark arbitrator and she lives! And I…am her _gift_. She can come back through me, she will remanifest in living flesh and all of humanity will be enslaved. Angeal figured it all out, that's why he knew he had to die. He was the first one she tried to possess, but he called her play. He ended his life to keep her bound, sealing the gateway for which she could come through him. Now she assails Genesis, but he is less willing to martyr himself. He is degrading _into _her, and he knows that if she takes him, she will kill him, his consciousness will be cast into oblivion.

"But me…I cannot degrade. If she ensnares me, my consciousness will remain intact and I will retain my awareness…all while capsizing the world into an abyss of unending darkness. I would doom humanity to its ultimate destruction. Genesis seeks my body for this reason, because if he ensnares me, he ensnares her, sparing himself and amassing power beyond the forces of a deity. This I cannot allow. I must do…the responsible thing."

"What is that? What is _the responsible thing_?"

Sephiroth stood stone, his countenance like shadow. He bore into Zack with an aura of black kohl, darkness incarnate dripping from his steel eyes.

"Get out of my way," he growled. "I'm going to see _my mother_. Do not try to stop me."

He swept past Zack like a flay of black wings, striding out of the library on a mission. Zack chased him down with a slow-building rage of his own.

"Why are you doing this Sephiroth? This isn't like you, you're acting like a man possessed! You're acting like _Genesis_! What are you!"

"_GHARRH!" _Sephiroth screamed and fell against the wall. Zack ran in front of him, to block him, to stop him, to do something as he hurled himself at the foundations. "Don't you see? I'm a monster! A daemon! An abomination! I must end this like Angeal, I must follow him, I must end myself!"

"It doesn't have to be like this!"

"I cannot be this Jenova's puppet! If I must choose the lesser of two evils, I would rather see everyone I love die than be enslaved! _I've _been a slave, I know what it's like! But you—innocent and unscathed—you cannot _begin _to fathom the darkness."

"I think I can Sephiroth...I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

"They _tortured _me!" he cried. "They razed my flesh, burned me with acid and molested me! They made me think a woman was my mother and then they killed her! And now, you are here, my living legacy. Your blood and mine, the sick end result of Project Gemini, conducted under the guise of a _fertility treatment_!"

Zack realized what was happening…He was talking to Angeal, he was seeing Angeal in front of him right now.

"Sephiroth, I'm listening to you, but do you know who you're talking to right now? I'm Zack, it's me, remember?"

"Damn you Zack Fair, you are the densest creature on the face of the planet! Angeal was a saint to put up with you as long as he did! You blissfully oblivious imbecile!" Okay, maybe he was talking to Zack. "You don't even know where you are in the world, flitting through life like a bee flies to flowers, unaware even of the invitro fertilization program your own mother took part in!"

Zack cocked a hard eyebrow.

"…The hell?"

"Everything you know about yourself is a lie. You weren't born at Gongaga General, you were delivered in a laboratory via cesarean-section at Shinra. That birthmark you have on the seat of your pants is a brand to identify you in case your citizenry paperwork was ever lost or destroyed, and so that no one could hide you."

Now Zack was scared, no one who hadn't seen Zack naked knew about _that _birthmark, and he was pretty sure Sephiroth hadn't seen him naked. Zack whirled his hands in front of him, trying to find a response. Everything had just gone from bizarre to insane to senile. He had to bring this down.

"Sephiroth, I want to believe you, but you're not making sense."

"You idiot! Why do you think the Turks were guarding you in Costa del Sol, practically holding you prisoner? Why do you think I couldn't answer your phone calls?"

Zack froze. His blood ran cold. The world rushed away as the image of Sephiroth stood still.

"Ask me Zack! Ask me where I was! Ask why the Turks were guarding you. _Ask me!"_

"W-why were they guarding me?"

"Because I was coming to get you!" The world disappeared as Sephiroth threw Pandora's Box wide open. "Those fools. They thought I was going to hurt you after what I found out in the data room. I would never harm my own blood!"

Zack _gasped_. His eyes flew wide, welling with hot tears. Everything slowed down, everything was so surreal.

"Ask me what I found in that data room, Zack. Ask me, damn you! ASK ME!"

"…What did you find?"

"_THAT I WAS CLONED!" _Sephiroth screamed, clawing into the stone unable to keep himself upright. His face scraped against jagged foundations with steel tears stinging his flushed cheeks. With a desperate look of longing, he spoke a soft confession to the young man who now stood bewildered before him.

"...Three times. Two boys, and a girl. The oldest was in SOLDIER…"

Now Zack broke. His hand flew over his mouth, and the tears fell in tributaries that threatened never to stop. Realizing who this man _was_, who he himself was, made Zack stand as straight as he could to face the bane of absolute truth. And Sephiroth stared back at him, affirming it. They were both shaking.

"…I had to go away for a while, to absorb all this, to grieve. My brothers were dead. But when I found out what they were going to do to you, I couldn't stay silent. They had plans, Zack. They had a cryotank with your name on it. They were going to do the same thing to you that they did to me. The vivisections, the constant experiments, the torture, the sensory deprivation enough to make you want to kill yourself, they were going to do it all to you! I found out, so I marched straight into Rufus Shinra's office and threatened to expose him as a traitor to the press!"

"R-Rufus Shinra?"

"Who do you think we're working for Zack? Shinra is the mob and we're hired hitmen, sent to wreak havoc and destruction in the name of someone else's profit! We're cast aside like dogs once our usefulness is worn out, used like we're not even human. Not to you! Your brother Cloud was safe, he wasn't in SOLDIER yet, they didn't have him targeted. But I couldn't contact you, I had to go far away from you, lest they use you against me and put you in danger. I had to let them know I was serious, that I would take Shinra down one rung at a time…starting with Lazard."

Zack's face contorted in confusion. Everything had turned into an impressionist nightmare. Sephiroth struggled to remain upright.

"I didn't know who the girl was until I came here. I thought it was your red-headed Turk for a while, until I read it in the hand of Hojo himself. _My own student!_ Oh the sick incestuous acts I've unknowingly been forced to perpetuate upon my own gene-pool. They were probably pleasuring themselves to the livefeeds they've bugged my room with! Their own twisted joke! Those bastards! I can't live with myself! I must end this once and for all! I'm a monster! A MONSTER!"

Zack rushed to him, catching him by the shoulders as he fell and holding him up.

"Keep talking to me! Don't let it take you! You're not a monster, you're a man, who's good with a sword!" He bore into his eyes with his a fist balled over his own heart. "…Like me."

The man and the boy stood there clutching each other for dear life. Sephiroth's eyes zoomed in and out of focus, clinging to the image of Zack, who did the same. In the shadowed null of the basement, no one remembered the red Turk who leaned like a slinky against the other wall. He watched this strange display with a cocked eyebrow and spoke in a deadpan monotone.

"Um, can I go back to bed now?"

Zack whirled around in a revelation.

"You! Turk! Do you know who this is?"

"I know who that is. I don't want to believe that he's who I think he is, because I really don't want to believe I've been asleep that long."

"Tell him! He has to know! Tell him his name!"

"WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE BABBLING ON ABOUT!" Sephiroth cringed back amid too much stimulation.

The red Turk hauled himself up as straight as he could, and looked the silver man dead in the eye.

"…Sephiroth Crescent." His dark voice resounded through the shadows, a forlorn proclamation that echoed in Sephiroth's soul. "That's your full name, after Lucrecia Crescent—the wife of Dr. Hojo. He impregnated her with the probing tool attached to his body, and psychologically manipulated her into letting the child be experimented on…She never even got to hold him. The baby was implanted with Jenova cells in utero and borne via natural childbirth into a world that was anything but natural. I was assigned to her as protection, I watched the whole sick drama play out like a macabre stage performance. The aim was to deeply traumatize the child to make his mind malleable for a handler to program, exposing him at an infantile age to horrors and torture techniques we use on the world's most dangerous terrorists. When I tried to step in, Hojo shot me in the back, trying to abduct the child from this hellish nightmare of Monarch mind-control. Now Lucrecia is lost to history, and her son carries on her name…Do you remember me now?"

The flashback came upon Sephiroth like a tidal wave.

The pale boy huddled on the floor of his cell that _his mother_ had furnished for him. But now she was gone, and he struggled to breath with the droopy-eyed face of trauma. Now a man in a micro-check suit stood over him, eclipsing him in a suffocating shadow. What would he do to him? What would they take away now?

But the man gazed down on the boy and brought something from behind his back…the Golden Book. He offered it to the little boy, who took it like a tea cup, and gazed up with a hidden light. The man picked him up, so light, the child was so small. He carried him out of that room, taking him out of there with a hand pressing his tiny head into the nape of his neck. Sephiroth cried on the man's shoulder, drooling onto his sleeve. The nightmare was ending. They were leaving this Hell.

In the hallway corridor, they stopped. A monster stood in their path.

Dr. Hojo leered like a loiterer, blocking their escape. Sephiroth saw lips moving, and felt the heartbeat of the man whose arms engulfed him speed up, but he heard nothing. Lips moved faster and teeth bared, hands flung up and fists flew skyward, Sephiroth hyperventilated against the pounding beat of the man's heart.

The flash of gunmetal, Hojo drew a pistol. The man whirled around, covering the boy with his body. He lurched again and again, sudden impact driving them both to the floor. He fell over the little boy who felt his heartbeat slow…slower…stop. Sephiroth couldn't breathe, his eyes flew wide in mottled shock.

_Phase II: Complete. _

Now Sephiroth the man stood against a stone wall, shaking in utter denial.

"Lies. It's all lies! IT'S ALL LIES!"

"I would know, _I loved her_," said the red Turk.

Zack yanked his phone out of his pocket.

"It's not lies! Your girl checked it out for me! She cut off Hojo's wang for your birth certificate!"

He showed the screen to Sephiroth, who stared at it for a long time. His whirling eyes seemed to whirl a little less as Zack talked him down.

"So it's not the best of circumstances, your father was a sick mad scientist, my step-dad was a sick cult-leader. But no matter how we got here, no matter what sick process it took to make us, all that matters now is that we're here. They control where we came from, they can't control where we're going! We can be better than the ones who made us…we don't have to be monsters."

"The things I've done, the things I've been driven to do to people I love…"

"That they'll forgive you for, and if not, then they're the real monsters!"

That did it. Zack felt it. He was getting through.

Sephiroth trembled and sweat in uncontrollable spasms, but his emotional meltdown was climaxing, like the cusp of a wave about to break. The look he gave Zack was one of pure despair, he couldn't be the hero of Shinra right now. He was ill. He was off his medication. He needed someone to understand. Zack was that person, and he knew in his heart what his purpose was now. If he couldn't pick Angeal up off the ground, he could pick up Sephiroth.

He stood up strong as the big man fell onto him, and held him up against his shoulder. He wrapped a strong arm around Sephiroth, who broke down in uncontrollable sobs. The wave was breaking. The storm was passing.

Sephiroth struggled on Zack's shoulder for a long time, and Zack stood there, letting him. The shakes stopped in time, and his soul went quiet. After all the hurricanes had passed, he spoke in his velveteen voice.

"Let's go home. I'll take the mission failure."

Zack held in the biggest smile of his life.

"Heh, it'll go on your permanent record."

"I'll chance it. There are no more monsters here."

_"Lies." _

A dark angel's voice spoke from the shadows, and Sephiroth glared up off of Zack's shoulder.

"…Except maybe one…"

Genesis, the dark meriah, emerged from the basement foyer. Black mist shrouded his steps like a veil that followed him in his wake—Chaos.

"_Infinite in mystery is the Gift of the Goddess. We seek it thus and take to the sky. Ripples form on the water's surface. The wandering soul knows no rest. She appears to the pure heart on Last Days, foretelling his day to die."_

Light footfalls, an alluring hand held aloft to the wayward group of onlookers.

_"Sephiroth_…" he called in a sing-songy voice, and Sephiroth's eyes zoomed out of focus. "Come to me, Little Brother. You have no choice but to obey."

Zack saw what was happening, Genesis was _activating _him. But if Sephiroth had to follow orders…

"Belay that order! Stay!" Zack shouted, and Sephiroth breathed. It worked.

But Genesis leered in light circular steps, mocking the pair.

"Well, look at _Zack the Puppy,_ barking the orders now. All grown up. The pup has turned Sheepdog, guarding his flock against wolves, unbeknownst to him that the wolves were within his very flock! A wolf in sheep's clothing hath trained him after all, and it must elate his heart to learn that he and his beloved mentor were blood all along. He treated you like his own son, didn't he, Zack? That burning connection you felt toward Angeal was no accident, as it was no accident that you were assigned to him in the very beginning. We are all kin, young one, even you and I. The other SOLDIER's are stagnant human beings, of little use to anyone save for their limited Mako energy output. It was so easy kidnapping them all in the beginning, they all cried for _their mothers_, so I addressed letter-bombs to their homes to get them to cooperate. But you, Zack, you know better than anyone that we haven't cried in years, don't you? Welcome to our family, Zack the Black Shepherd, the Silver Elite is together again."

"Did you kidnap Lazard too?" Zack snarled as he held Sephiroth behind him. "Is that how you got him to commit treason, by blackmailing him?"

_"Tsk, tsk_, you would make a horrible playwright. Your sense of the three-act plot structure, not to mention the Shakespearian storyarc, is simply atrocious! Lazard was my lover in SOLDIER, I bade him cooperate of his own accord. He was quite fond of me and my cause for quite a while, but, toward the end there, he became, shall we say, far too vocal for his own good. I had to—ooh I love this part—_discipline _him."

Zack swallowed a lump in his throat.

"What did you do to him?"

"Oh, we had a little _spat_, as couples are wont to. He actually called me a megalomaniac! So, a pity, I lost my temper. I sent him back to Shinra wrapped in his entrails. The Receiving Department should be getting a little present very soon."

They gasped, but Genesis flipped his hand.

"I'll bet you're curious to know how I fooled the Predator Drone? I'll tell you, it's simply quite brilliant. A _Shapeshifter_. I'm sure you've already met him—your Skinwalker friend. Hollander discovered it at North Crater. I can be here and there at the same time, and what's more, if I die, I can assume its vacant vessel and come back for an encore, one last hurrah."

_We'll see about that, _Zack thought.

"As for the other SOLDIER's—"

"The other team! Where are they?"

"If my sense of time is correct, they should be hanging on meat hooks right about now."

"YOU BASTARD!"

"Such a shame, they were all _so young_. Poor 3rds, just as gullible and naïve as the ones in those cryopods you saw, and just as ear-piercing when I cleaved open their chest-cavities."

"You won't get away with this!"

"I already have. Unfortunately, it is you who won't be getting away."

Zack's mind whirled as he flew into planning. His body tensed as he flipped into a low-level autonomic combat-mode, hand not yet on his sword but twitching by his side. Yet Genesis still flowed in his circular strides, pacing the inside of the basement like a grand stage. Zack realized he was actually covering all escape routes and keeping them pinned against the library. The pariah called again to his younger brother.

"SOLDIER 1st Class Sephiroth, SOLDIER indeed. It would seem that your illustrious career as the hero of Shinra is actually wrought in abuse. Bred in captivity, taken against your will, forced to produce offspring, your story is the definition of rape. If anyone has leave to be angry at this company, it is you. Yet, there is one element in this demented narrative for which I am intently perturbed…When you came out of that data room and ran away, Command had you on furlough; paid leave and full access to company benefits. You were _declassed_, no longer a 1st, your name was removed from PERSCOM as a single-resource and you were taken off the planning table in the war room. You were _free_, Sephiroth, Shinra would not have come after you. You could have fled to Galbadia, assumed a new identity, built a life for yourself. You would have been gladly granted asylum for our work there, your name would have faded into obscurity like you always wanted and your children would have remained lost. After all this organization has done to terrorize your poor soul, I'm curious…why did you come back?"

Sephiroth leered from behind Zack's shoulder, and spoke with absolute certainty out at the demon that assailed him.

"…To accept responsibility."

Genesis erupted into hysterical laughter.

"Sephiroth, the family man! How touching! A shame that he is only good to some parts of his family and not to others."

"I _WILL_ kill my own brother for their sake."

"I'm afraid, dear brother, it is you who will die today, along with your errant sons!"

Genesis drew his Curtana, and Zack drew his sword. This basement was as good a place as any for a throwdown, it was shaped like _an arena _after all. If this whole charade had been a videogame, it would have been the perfect location for a boss battle that never happened.

All along, watching this melodramatic black-box play out like a cheesy one-act, the red Turk leaned with a cocked eyebrow against the wall. He stood up, shaking his legs out to get his blood circulating, then walked right in the middle of the mess like he didn't care. He looked at Zack, looked back at Genesis, and shook his head.

"This game is so stupid. You're a monster, he's a monster, I'm a monster, we're all a bunch of monsters…doesn't bother me much…"

A singeing black light burst forth from the red Turk's aura as his body morphed. His limbs elongated into the feral form of a lupine monstrosity. With gnashing claws he lunged for Genesis who shot his sword out with wide eyes.

(Vincent transforms into a monster and attacks Genesis).

Sephiroth and Zack stood taken aback with mouths gaping. The werewolf creature in shards of shorn leather lashed in vicious swipes at the red-cloaked angel. That crimson Curtana flew into whirling defensive arcs, catching the monster's claws on its blade. Genesis bore into the beast with rage.

"Your part in this tale is not for another Act."

And he hit the Turk with a _Sleep_ mote that sent him flying all the way back into the storage room, back into the coffin Zack pulled him out of, where the lid clamored shut once more.

"Now, where were we?" Genesis fixed his cufflinks. "Oh yes. _Even if the morrow is barren of promise, nothing shall forestall my return_."

He pulled an indigo apple from his coat pocket and held it out to the two SOLDIER's. But something changed about the fruit. The skin began to burn off.

Sephiroth pulled Zack behind him.

"Get back!"

"What is it?"

_"Black Materia." _

The skin of the apple flaked to the ground in ashes to reveal a glowing obsidian orb. Genesis took it with a leering look of power, and slowly fused it into his body. His aura glowed a neon-black, the embodiment of Chaos. He smiled in daemonic reverence.

Sephiroth still held Zack.

"…Whatever happens, do not interfere."

"But you'll die!"

"Maybe not, but you definitely will."

Now Genesis stood a glowing red angel, ringed in a blood-aura with a fanged daemonic grin. He lifted his crimson Curtana, and rushed for the pair. Sephiroth drew his daiakatana and shoved Zack to the ground before charging in.

The rush of sheered steel singed in flarelight as a daikatana bashed off a Curtana. Zack looked up to see an avenging angel standing over him, silver hair flaring like wings in a flash that made him remember the first time he'd accosted Sephiroth, a long time ago. Now another unholy demon assailed him, and once again, this man stood guarding him.

Zack clamored to his feet, shadowing the two warriors from the outskirts. A sweeping downbash caught Sephiroth in the shoulder, and Zack threw a _Cura _to heal it. But he wasn't trained as a heal-bot, hence Zack's Magic was limited and healing spells took a lot out of him. He did his best to stay with Sephiroth, shuffling like a catcher at the plate.

Genesis got wise to Sephiroth's tagalong, quite an annoyance. And though Zack wasn't an expert in high-level defensive Magic, Genesis was. He cast his legendary _Barrier, _ringing Sephiroth and himself in a translucent dome that reflected all casts and items back at the caster. Zack slammed his fists against the dome, and his sword bounced back at him. This was bad.

The fighting raged as Zack dug in his pockets. There had to be something he had, one thing that could break through the Barrier, anything—

Sephiroth's green vial flew from his pocket and clamored on the ground. Zack dove for it in slow motion, but the vial was pure Materia…It slid seamlessly through the Barrier.

Genesis streaked in a flash for the vial, and as he clutched his hand around its mass, he threw Zack a little kiss. Then, as Sephiroth streaked after him in his wake, he jammed the vial of Paralyze Materia into his chest.

Zack gasped.

Genesis, the leering pariah, let out a maniacal laugh as he examined his foe. Sephiroth was completely immobilized, not even his eyes could move. Genesis flowed to him like a dashing rogue and ran a blackened fingernail down his cheek. Soft caress against a pale jaw, Genesis brought his own face so close to his brother's, and cheek to cheek he felt the warmth of lifeblood that could not degrade. In a luscious sigh, Genesis turned Sephiroth's implant off…with his tongue.

"I don't want you to hear this, I just want to say it…"

He spoke in free verse, breaking character for the swiftest moment.

"…Do you remember our little fight in the Junon Cannon simulation? I do. I'll bet you've always wondered what started it, what set me off? But the truth is, it was _you _who was set off. Didn't you notice your surge in stats after I read you Loveless, how all of the sudden you couldn't stop? You see, Loveless was the trigger that activated your slave programing, and I was your _handler_! Me! That's why I read it to you as much as I did, I activated you and relayed your mission objectives, and you _obeyed_. Did you ever wonder why your fame kept increasing while you did nothing different? You probably have entire blocks of blanked-out memory, don't you? Whole chunks of your life are just pure black, you can't remember anything. That's because they are missions you would never have been able to perform had you been conscious, and missions I would never have been able to relay had I not been entranced myself. I quit Dancer long before I met you, they made me start again. They did things to me too, Sephiroth. I am but a slave myself. A couple of marionettes are we, a pair of puppets on a string, dancing to the devil's delight. But why, you ask, was Angeal sparred our fates? Because they used him against us, Sephiroth. They would hurt him if we didn't cooperate, we obeyed to protect him. We are old hearts, you and I, old fools together in torment. We've been bound since the beginning, since our brief interlude of unrequited lust. Do you think they did not know? That is precisely _why_ they chose us! During our fight in the simulation, you thought I didn't understand that you were trying to offer your sincerest apologies. I know what you were trying to say, that you'd forgiven me, that you wanted to move on. But I didn't want to move on, I wanted to move _forward_, with us…It seems now, at the end of everything, I will finally have my chance."

Genesis' lips moved for Sephiroth's, and Zack screamed. Their mouth's met in a mournful song. An emanating power deepened through his kiss, lush and violent, the smooth stroke of tongue against teeth. Flowing warmth invaded the silver man, and a flash of white blinded his eyes.

Sephiroth awoke in pure void.

He saw his brother, _Genny-G, _half the side of his head shaved to skin. But his youthful glow didn't shine now, he stood naked in darkness with eyes that gleaned in tears. He averted his gaze, turning away in shame, and Sephiroth saw it…a line of stitches running down his spine. The questions remained unanswered, what went wrong? Who had been talking to Genesis in his mind after their father had died, telling him his brothers didn't love him and that he was a burden? What dark malevolence had taken him from them? What was its name?

Sephiroth found himself on a wide open savannah, golden wheat stems wafting around his pants legs. His hair flowed in a silver braid down his back, and his coat was too big for him again. He had always been that little boy inside.

The world was an endless golden ocean with marigold flowers spanning as far as the eye could see. But the sky didn't shine now. Clouds coalesced in blue and purple stratus like the indigo flesh of apples he'd once known long ago. The longing in his heart was as long as the endless field as he whispered a silent wish cast onto the edges of forever. He was nothing, he belonged nowhere, he owned nothing of consequence that he would regret losing, save one thing…

"I miss…my friends."

A voice, from behind…

"We're still here, _dumbapples_."

Sephiroth turned, and there he was, with chaotic bangs that flew everywhere like a catalytic star. His oldest brother stood brimming with lost light, ocean eyes gleaming with pride. He and Sephiroth sat back to back in the wide savannah, and watched the clouds roll by overhead like foam.

"Hey Sephiroth?" Angeal asked with eyes still skyward. "I had a dream last night. I dreamed we were all heroes. Cool stuff, eh?"

But Sephiroth snorted at the non-existent sun.

_"Hmphf, _who wants to be a hero?"

The light was fading fast now, the flowers disappearing into blue null. Angeal glanced over his shoulder with a warm smile.

"…Hey, you ready to go?"

Sephiroth's eyes fell to his boots. He wasn't sure. He was tired, his joints ached from the multitude of torn ligaments, his back hurt from numerous slipped disks, his head pounded in a dull throbbing from the infusion headaches that never seemed to go away, but the most painful wounds came from his heart.

The flash of Zack walking away on the Junon Cannon when Sephiroth had returned, and walking out of his apartment after they'd sparred in a culminating unison, played in front of Sephiroth's eyes. He heard what his thoughts had said in silence on that night.

_Angeal…he's my son. _

The memory of a little blonde boy in a helicopter, and a girl with a chip on her shoulder caroused his subconscious mind. What would become of them? Would they be okay? The answer came like a forlorn sunset sweeping across the plain.

_Yes. _

Angeal stood up then and offered his hand to Sephiroth. But wait, not yet, he wasn't ready. Sephiroth was shaking. Light swept over Angeal's glossy features, shining like porcelain glass, and a soft promise smiled through his eyes.

A moment that seemed to last forever, and Sephiroth felt calm. He took his older brother's hand.

Angeal lifted him to his feet and walked with him, leading him from this life into the next.

Back in the basement, a darkness so malignant and profound engulfed the corporeal forms of Genesis and Sephiroth, entwined like a braid of blood and mercury. Neon light flowed from the red angel's lips into Sephiroth's mouth, into his eyes, his limbs, and all at once Genesis disintegrated into black feathers. His essence invaded the being Sephiroth, possessing his mind, his heart, his higher brain functioning, and ultimately, erasing him.

The Barrier dissolved and Zack sprinted for Sephiroth. But the flay of dark feathers fell to the floor at the big man's feet, who stood stone and motionless with his eyes closed. Zack grabbed for him, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him. There was no breath.

Raw panic. Zack cast _Life _to wake him up. Nothing. He cast _Full Life _and drained his Magic. Still nothing. He used a potion, ten potions, all of his Elixirs, a Megalixir, a Gold Needle to cure the Paralyze effect. Nothing, nothing, and more nothing.

"NO!" Zack threw his arms around him. "I loved you like I loved Angeal! You stood in for him, gave me pride that only a father can give his son. But you can't cave to this darkness, you have to stay strong, for yourself, and for the kid right here who idolizes you. You can't give in, you have to fight it! I'll fight it! I'll fight with you! I'll fight forever! FIGHT IT!"

Zack cried and sobbed in a dire embrace, but the big man didn't stir. He hugged the stone monolith in the basement of some forgotten mansion, wailing like he'd lost someone all over again. But then, a low vibration in Zack's ear—like a laugh—and he _froze_.

Steady rumbling, building in Sephiroth's throat, made Zack's blood run cold. Now _he _stopped breathing, the hairs on his neck standing on end as the low muffled laughter intensified. Louder and evil, it began to echo in the dark underchambers. As Zack pulled back with a look of guiled terror, the big man's eyes opened…Orbs of solid black.

An overpowered hyperpunch sent Zack flying back through stone walls, up through the floor of the mansion, out onto the cold earth beneath the manor's steps. He toppled like a dead body across the hallowed ground, out cold.

A shadow flowed from the manor, and in its wake Sephiroth strode cloaked in an aura of crimson Chaos. He moved as if he barely touched the ground, a phantom in a black coat. He took one step onto hardpacked ground, and all at once the entire forest despaired.

With daikatana in hand, he reached the entrance to Nibelheim, and all at once from every corner and crevasse of the mountain range, Genesis copies flocked to the call of their new master.

[Received Black Cowl]


	50. Chapter 45 - SOLDIER

Zack came to splayed out on cold dirt, body wracked and a foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach. He cringed to lift himself in the dark, and saw flames razing the treeline in the distance. Nibelheim was burning.

Zack leapt up, racing there with blind fear pounding in his chest. He found the entrance to the town stoked in black smoke, and along the main street countless bodies lay slashed and butchered like cow meat. The corpses littered the town in a bloody massacre, a peaceful village had turned into a burning genocidal warzone. Dead parents clutched slain children in the sickeningly terror-stricken expressions they'd died in, rigamortis freezing them in eternal contorted positions. At Zack's feet, Tifa's dog lay sliced in half.

Zack ran around to the Inn, not even sure where he was running, blindly following a sick dooming sense that drove him onward in dread. There, amidst a wall of flame like a royal panegyric entourage he beheld his worse fear…a man with red-ringed irises.

_No. _

Zack looked upon the prophetic aberration and despaired. Sephiroth stood an unholy ghost of infernal tempest, a nightmare incarnate wreathed in abysmal fire. The flames leaned away as if bending to his will, and in that sheen of daemonic lust, Sephiroth turned in a flair of his black coat and disappeared into the smoke.

Zack meant to follow him, he had to go after him, but something grabbed his arm and turned him about. Zack screamed, but found Cloud wide-eyed in raw panic. He grabbed the kid, clutching him so hard, while Cloud cried in incoherent, shaking sobs.

"I was so scared…I was too scared…"

When Cloud had seen Genesis copies ransacking the town at the bidding of a familiar black-cloaked man, he did the only thing a boy without a sword could do…he hid. From underneath the porch of the Inn he watched a deadly daikatana that had once belonged to his hero lay waste to countless lives. Now he clawed at this big SOLDIER's arms while Zack hugged him for dear life, never more grateful in his life that Cloud had been afraid.

An explosion rocked the sky. A propane tank had combusted…near Cloud's home.

"MOM!" Cloud wrenched free of Zack's arms, who wasn't fast enough to grab him. He ran after him in a mad scramble.

Cloud barreled down the street he grew up on that now stood bathed in fire. Houses of neighbors torched like kindling, memories burned to ash. His own home came upon him engulfed in flame, and he ran in a blind rush with hot tears streaking down his face. Charging up the stoop, he kicked the door in and forced his way inside.

Smoke filled the living room, the stairs were on fire, but Cloud didn't care about his room or his useless material possessions that he'd left behind when he ran away. His field of view narrowed to a long tunnel into the kitchen, where he saw a woman slashed to death.

Cloud screamed and lurched for her, but two big arms dragged him back. Zack wrestled him out of that house like he'd ripped him away from that flaming chopper wreck, dragging him back as the roof collapsed while the kid thrashed and belted at the top of his lungs. Zack fought with him like a feral animal, injured and afraid.

"LOCK IT UP, SOLDIER!" Zack turned him about, and Cloud stopped screaming. He met Zack's strong eyes through hyperventilating gasps, while Zack just bore down on him not quite sure what he was doing either, but certain that it was right.

"You have more honor than any SOLDIER I've ever served with. You're SOLDIER like me now. And if I say it, then let anyone who says otherwise fight me! But now I need you to be strong. Can you do that, SOLDIER?"

Cloud, still crying, furrowed his brow and nodded.

"Then here's your first order. Round up the survivors. I have to go to the Reactor and take care of this…"

Cloud gave a little nod affirming the task, and Zack started to back away, easing his hands off Cloud. Once again, like he'd found him injured before, he really didn't want to leave him alone again. But he knew he had to. It was time for Cloud to stand on his own. He pointed back at him with eyes as wild as his.

"I'm counting on you!"

And Zack took off running toward the Reactor. But someone was already there.

When Tifa saw the flood of copies spewing out from a fog of Chaos, she knew where they'd come from. Racing up to the Reactor, she found her father dead outside—the crazy paparazzo still clutched his telephoto lens. The last polaroid he took still stuck out from the camera's mouth, a picture of silver hair and a slashing daikatana. Enraged, armed with proof and the flash of fiery youth, she ran into that Reactor. She would not be held back this time.

The trail of dripping blood lead her into the chamber, where she saw him. Sephiroth stood like an oracle at the top of the steps before an unholy door, muttering divinations in ecstatic revue. He'd cast his daikatana aside. He wouldn't need it where he was going, and now it lay prostrate at a young girl's feet.

Blind confidence is the respite of madness. Tifa snatched up that daikatana and charged the silver man. He turned, expressionless as his own sword drew down to slay him. He grabbed her wrist, wretched the blade free, and slashed her across the chest. Down the stairs she toppled, of no consequence to anyone or anything any longer.

But this was not just anyone, this was a monster. Sephiroth descended the steps as a bleeding teenage girl struggled to crawl away. Blood pooled from a gash in her hair, her slashed tshirt no longer contained her bare breasts, and wild fear confirmed the realization that in all her years of training, she had been lied to. Sephiroth's shadow eclipsed her frail form, and her pupils constricted. He exposed himself, fell upon her, and she screamed like the terror at life's end.

Up past the lighthouse, Zack found them. Genesis clones assailed him in groups of four, and his sword sang their death song. A harrowing power-slash, and their dead bodies flew like roadkill.

"Angeal!" Zack screamed as his sword cleaved flesh. He ducked a high saber swipe and came up into an up-slice that splattered blood on his fatigues. "Angeal, why!"

He ran at two more and bashed them one after the other into the side of the mountain pass.

"ANGEAL!" He drove his sword into the ground and fell to his knees, sobbing and shaking and screaming.

_"There's no need to shout. I'm right here."_

Zack whirled around, and white light shone on his face.

There stood an angel bathed in harrowing rays of sun, auric beams of light streaming like a new dawn from the outstretched palms of the revenant being. And from his back spanned not one, but two flowing pearlescent wings.

Zack fell on the ground, his hand at his heart. He couldn't look up to meet the beautiful creature, gasping in elated sobs that filled him with warmth. Angeal spoke with an echo in his voice as if from a higher realm.

_"You don't have much time. The fight of your life lies ahead. Come Zack, embrace me. I have a gift for you_."

[Received Angeal's Wings]


	51. Chapter 46 - Family

The door to the Nibelheim Reactor burst open, and in strode a SOLDIER with two revenant wings. Zack charged in like a screaming eagle, the avian span of some mighty raptor flaring like flayed silk in his wake. He flowed through the loading corridor loping like a winged wolf to stand in the antechamber, bathed in emergency lights and ambulatory sirens that flickered off Zack in blood-rays. Steam shot out from slashed pipes and wires in a ghastly red fog. The disaster still lay decimated from a daikatana the week earlier, but this time new damage eclipsed the old…

Jenova's door was open.

A whimper—off to the side. Zack saw Tifa splayed in a bloody heap on the ground. He ran to her.

Her clothes were slashed to ribbons, and blood smeared the length of her legs. Her chest heaved in gasping breaths, struggling for oxygen amid low, muffled cries. Zack reached a hand out for her, but she lurched away. Zack flinched back at the horrifying confirmation of what happened here. Blood rushed from his face as Tifa cried, curled up into a ball.

"I hate you all. All you SOLDIER's. I hope you all die!"

Zack reached for her again, to pick her up, to carry her away in his arms, but she jerked and screamed.

"Get away!" Then, the magic word that made Zack pull back. "NO!"

He didn't touch her. Her aura riled him as if Zack were the one who'd done this to her. He couldn't believe it. His mind whirled in catalytic vertigo, a feeling between shock and rage. He rushed in a panic to the steps and then stopped, hesitated, and turned back. He couldn't leave her, but he had to go, he had to fix this.

In a phenomenal rush, he ripped the sword from his back, and ran into Jenova's lair.

Meanwhile, a silver-haired phantom in a black coat stood before an oracle like an altar. The tetraformic statue of a chrome sarcophagus leered like a lonely woman, wires for hair behind an eyeless metal mask. Sephiroth stood elated in her presence, speaking in a poetic monotone like the uttering of an elegy.

"Mother. The world of your eyes is the souls of the innocent ones. The crimson of your lips is the blood on this world's ground, that soaks its soil eternal. Your fingertips grace the silver grass, flowing from the waterfalls of your hair. Your voice, whispers I've heard in my heart all my life, leading me to the Promised Land. Let us go there, together. Let us take back this world, my imbroglio, my black dahlia, _my Goddess. _Mother. They have come again. But do not despair, for I am with you now."

Sephiroth flared out his arms, as if to embrace the sacred geometry of her prison.

"I had a dream, Mother. We meet at last."

Sephiroth put his hands on the unholy architecture, and ripped it from its casing. Groaning metal and mechanisms whined, wires ripped from their casings, and black blood flowed from chrome eye slits. He discarded the sarcophagus, and reveled in elated rapture at the Mako-filled tank in front of him.

Jenova awoke. Her eyes were daemonic indigo beads on an angular face with hair like silver comet tails. She had no appendages, no arms or legs, just a mass of flesh and breasts hooked up to transfusion tubes that fed her lifeblood straight from the reactor's core. Sephiroth stood evangelized, born-again, enlightened beyond the scope of the universe, while a SOLDIER dashed up from behind.

"SEPHIROTH!" Zack screamed. His mind still couldn't accept that Sephiroth was gone. Now this monster loomed in Chaos, pulling the world into his destructive void. Not if Zack had a say in it.

He ran into the chamber, wings and sword flaring, and leapt in a hypervescent downslash with the sharp edge of his sword onto Sephiroth. A daikatana flashed sidelong, batting Zack away, throwing him down the dark reactor neck that fell into the Mako chamber. He flayed his wings out to catch himself, and broke his fall on a glass suspension deck below ground-level. Tearing to his feet, he swung his sword out and screamed to the catalyst above.

"I TRUSTED YOU!"

The black-cloaked monster sheered his silver daikatana and leapt down after Zack.

Black boots hit the glass deck, and a silver daikatana streaked for Zack's flaring Buster Sword. He drove in on Zack in whirling arc-hits that crash-locked up with the big sword. Zack drove back with the rage of worlds in his eyes.

Sephiroth wound for a single-slash, but Zack knew his technique now. He jerked forward into his own slash that canceled out the daikatana's in a ringing echo. He dove to get even footing but Sephiroth blocked him, driving him further to the edge of the glass walkway that extended like a finger over the endless fall.

That thin steel tip whirled in slitting whips. Whizzing hot steel sliced Zack's cheek, and his hand flew to his face as he leapt back. Sephiroth's red eyes bore into him in that cold singe of betrayal. The young adversary stood inches from the edge as the black-cloaked monster strode forth to claim his kill. This could not be the end.

A phenomenal slash, and Zack shattered the glass they stood upon. He and Sephiroth fell together in a whirling vertigo, their swords still streaking off each other in fury. They battled each other all the way down into the Mako Chamber, where they saw it at last with their own eyes.

The Fal'Cie, a massive geothermic crystal hovering in an oscillating stasis.

The interior of the monumental dome-shaped rock-chamber was pot-marked with cavernous openings like the inside of a bee-hive. Hot airstreams zipped across the expanse to connect in a superhighway of steam. Zack and Sephiroth caught the edge of one and streaked through a bullet-whipping airshaft, slashing at each other as they went.

Their screaming blade-hits sent sparks flaring in the tunnels of the catacombs, kicking off walls and dodging slices while jettisoning through steam vents at maddening speeds. They shot out the mouth of one and into another, zig-zagging across the vastness of the Mako Chamber.

All motion ceased. Their battle ground to a halt in mid-air. They found themselves locked mid-slash in a beam of enraged light.

The Fal'Cie crystal intervened in their ruckus that had disturbed its age-long slumber. It swept a holy light over them, scanning them, and deemed them unworthy. It shot them out in a rush of hot air, jettisoning them back to the surface world from whence they'd come, rejecting their existence.

Zack was thrown up through Jenova's chamber, hit the roof, and bashed through the doorway down the stairs of the reactor's antechamber. His sword flew from his hands, and his wings disappeared. A phenomenal _crack _resonated through his spine, and he couldn't feel his body. A mottled terror seized him as he faded from consciousness…he couldn't move his legs! But Zack wasn't alone, someone else had come.

When Cloud arrived at the reactor, he lurched at the sight that awaited him. He saw his girlfriend splayed out dead on the ground, his best friend nearby very near to death himself, all by the hands of a man whom he'd called his hero. Cloud hadn't been at the manor. He knew nothing of events that had transpired, no logical explanation could concoct itself in his shaken consciousness. The sickening shock that rocked his small frame was enough to make the mind bend in half. If this had been a videogame plot, whoever the sick bastard was who came up with it deserved to burn in nine hells.

He fell on his knees. He couldn't breathe. Wracked tremors assaulted his limbs as jolts of electricity zig-zagged through his veins. Cold ice tore up his spine, why had this happened? The only coherent thought that could manage to take form in his traumatized mind.

_WHY!_

He ran to her, tripping halfway, and fell upon her bug-eyed and shaking. Between Zack and Tifa stood one million years of evolution, a boy would always run to his girl. But Cloud didn't know how to take a pulse, had no way to tell that she was alive. All he saw were her pale butterfly cheeks and defiled body ravaged like a desecrated fane. Her chest didn't rise. Her eyes were closed, lashes soft and fluttery. Everything in his body knew she was gone from him, and everything in his soul despaired. It took everything in him to let her go.

A groan. He ran to Zack. He eased a hand on his shoulder, turning him much like Zack had done to Cloud once before in a bathhouse long ago. Blood streamed from Zack's ears, his eyes barely tracked light, yet he grabbed Cloud's collar with a huge hand and pulled him down to whisper in his ear.

"_Get him for me._"

Zack sighed, and passed out. A flash of light on tungsten broke Cloud's focus. The Buster Sword called.

Cloud didn't know what came over him then. At that moment only one thing blared in his mind, something Sephiroth had said on the helicopter. He gripped Zack's shoulder like an angry child, eyes fixed on the massive blade that flashed in beads of siren light like it was calling for him. He went to it, and took it up in both hands…It wasn't heavy for him.

Now a boy stood alone against the gateway into hell, but it was that first step forward that made him a man.

Sephiroth trudged up to Jenova's holding tank, wild rage still in his eyes. He drove a huge fist into the glass, shattering spider cracks all along its surface. He flared his fists again and again, until he punched an opening that sent Mako streams shooting out of the holding tank. He reached in, grabbed Jenova's head, and wretched it straight from her fleshy torso.

"Mother. You and I will be one at last."

He held her ravaged face in his hands, turned to leave her defiled lair, and found a Buster Sword bash-stabbing him back against the glass. The blade sliced clear through his torso, pinning him in a state of bewildered surprise. But instead of the strong SOLDIER he expected, he looked to see…a boy.

Little Cloud drove into him in such a state of horror-struck rage, determination flaring from his lithe form. Yet, it faded fast as he looked up into the silver man's eyes, and met them with a look of despair. Why had he done this? Why had Sephiroth driven _him_ to do this? Why?

But no expression crossed Sephiroth's face, as if he didn't even recognize Cloud, and that destroyed him. He flashed his diakatana and skewered Cloud, lifting him like a pathetic scrap of meat. Cloud let out a meek cry, sputtering and choking like a drowning kitten. Worlds flashed before his eyes, the warmth from Zack's guiding hand still on his shoulder, the hot flush of Tifa's skin against his, and the proud cerulean eyes of a father-figure he never had. Was this how it all ended, with red-ringed irises of hatred staring up into him, relishing his suffering as he bled to death?

A last act, the only thing Cloud's heart could manage. He talked to Sephiroth in signs.

"_Why have you done this?" _

But Sephiroth didn't answer, not an ounce of recognition crossed his eyes. He didn't even register Cloud's sign-language—as if he didn't understand. That was the clue, the tip that set off Cloud's rage. He wasn't dealing with who he thought he was. He was dealing with a monster.

He kicked off the wall, touched down on the ground, and Sephiroth's jaw hit the floor. With a burst of infernal strength—from someone they said wasn't strong enough for SOLDIER—Cloud lifted _Sephiroth _from the ground by his own daikatana and held him in the air. Rage flowed from the young boy's eyes, more embroiled than the Chaos that spilled from the silver man, defying the void between Heaven and Hell like Cloud commanded both. Now something registered in the big man—_shock—_and a fear so intense froze him in space like a black hole, sucked into the well of Cloud's fury. With a great yell, Cloud threw the man with all he had over the edge of the reactor, and watched him fall far down into the planet's core. Darkness finally swallowed him, and Cloud fell flat on his face.

The world turned sideways, fading out in phases of black and white. He bled in tributaries from his abdomen. It wouldn't be long now. He crawled, pulling himself inch by inch in a trail of blood through Jenova's door. A longing need drove him on, the need to be close, what he wanted more than anything, more than life itself. He struggled on his elbows down the steps, toward the form of Zack that lay prostrate and unmoving on the ground.

Dizzy and crying, shaking beyond pain, he dragged himself all the way to Zack's shoulder, and passed out next to the face of his brother.

[Received Masamune]


	52. Chapter 47 - Those Wings

Zack breeched the surface of consciousness for a split second, his eyes fluttering open and closed. The fade-in fade-out of cognizant thought found him on a stretcher in the reactor. The EVAC team had _finally_ arrived.

Cloud lay strapped to an ambulance board across from him, unconscious and on oxygen, while company guards and personnel hovered in and out of Zack's focus. A white lab coat engulfed his view.

_"…paralyzed from the waist down…" _

"…_SOLIDER? No, the little one is just a Shinra Guard…"_

_"…the parent host is dead. Will these child hosts suffice?..." _

_"…Yes. Yes, these specimens will do nicely. He he he…"_

Zack recognized the mercurial laugh of Dr. Hojo, and faded from the light. Everything Sephiroth said was true.

He awoke to another harsh light blaring in his face, with no way of knowing how long he'd been out. His vision blurring into focus found surgical lamps beaming down on him.

Two masked figures in hair nets loomed over him, lifting bloody organs away from his field of view. It took Zack a moment to realize they were _his _organs, and his mind reeled in terror. From somewhere beyond the cusp of horror, Sephiroth's words filtered back to him.

_They were going to do it all to you! _

He braced for the oncoming wave of pain that assailed his being; the eviscerating slice of scalpels into his skin, angry gnashing of a bone saw biting into his body, probing tools entering him in ways he couldn't combat, a sick groping pressure on his genitals. When everything was over, he could move his legs again, but Hell had not yet reared its full might.

They imprisoned him in a sensory-deprivation tank, hooked up to tubes and wires. In his brief moments of coherent awareness, he discerned two white lab coats leering like onlookers at a zoo.

"_In order to turn him into Sephiroth, we'll need to erase his self-concept." _

_"A simple task I've performed on his father before him. Let us play some war-games."_

And Zack's world faded to black.

He came to strapped in a chair somewhere in the old testing facilities of the Nibelheim Reactor. Interrogation. All of his SOLDIER training flew back to him from when he'd gone through SERE School.

_In a hostage situation, a SOLDIER remains silent at all costs. Your teammates' lives may depend on it. _

Before him stood a cryotank filled with Mako like Zack's had been. But to his horror, he saw Cloud floating unconscious in a deep coma. He couldn't react, couldn't show how important this boy was to him. If Zack wanted Cloud to live he'd have to pretend like he wanted him dead.

Two scientists loomed just outside of his field of vision, their white lab coats flashing in his peripherals. Hojo and his assistant leered in scrutiny.

"_What is your name?" _Dr. Hojo asked, but his voice filtered through Zack's ears in a reverberating treble, as if he were speaking under water. Sodium Penethol. Zack felt a microphone taped to his throat, and understood the sick game that was going on here.

If he spoke, his voice would activate electro-follicles that would shock Cloud in front of him. His name would hurt someone he cared for, attaching a negative stimulus to his very identity, and that's how they would delete him. He remained expressionless, exuding a blank lull as if he gave two damns about the person in front of him, glass eyes like stone staring a thousand miles ahead.

_"WHAT. IS. YOUR. NAME!" _ the mad scientist roared in his face. Rank breath filled Zack's nostrils, coffee and gingivitis. Zack stayed stoic like he was already dead, and the scientist lost patience. In a raged stupor, he grabbed the diode controller, cranked it up to high, and shocked Zack with a voltage that made him scream for wont of murder.

After that, the torture intensified over time Zack had no way of measuring. They played low-frequency theta waves in his tank to make him hallucinate ghosts, and cause visceral nightmares that turned his brain activity monitor into a scatter plot. They adjusted the temperature in his tank all the way down to freezing cold and then straight to near-boiling. They stuck a VR helmet on him and played snuff films until he'd seen more death than any war veteran at the VA, then switched the channel to child pornography and kept him awake with an epi-pen. They injected him with lethal levels of Dancer to prompt an addiction, and withheld the drug as collateral. Zack was too stubborn. He rode out the withdrawal symptoms like a champion without ever uttering a sound. They threatened to paralyze him again, but Zack knew they wouldn't do that. He was no use to them as a vegetable, and they wouldn't risk not being able to bring him back.

_"What is your name?"_

The same question always came, and the same answer was always given; Zack's unrelenting silence. A time came where the scientists stood before his tank with perplexed expressions.

_"He is too strong. He's reached an age where he is past programing. We will start on the other one."_

A panic so great it seized the clasps of his mind made him flurry, raking his fingernails down the inside of the tank so hard that scratch lines remained in the glass. Now it was Zack's turn to go into a coma, and his mind took him deep into the realm of unconscious sleep, protecting him.

He fled to some serene place in his deeper psyche, to where the sky was water and the ground was made of glass. He felt arms around his neck, the faint fluttering of fingers across his face, but he didn't know who they belonged to. For the life of him, he couldn't remember her name.

Alone, he drifted in the swell of melancholy, memories fading to crystal, his identity dutifully extracted, his strength, his valor, his will, all concocted down to a chemical compound. He was fading, flowing into the sorrow of time in the shade of angel's wings. The nightmares faded back to stardust, and he dreamt other people's dreams. Hopes and feelings that were not his own lifted him up, splaying in lilac lines against blue water. Was this…the Lifestream? He felt himself connected to a swirling collective unconsciousness, where all souls in the universe were part of him and he was part of them.

Speak, young angel. Tell us your name. Tell us about honor and dreams. Under your wings, we suffer alongside you. Your struggles, adventures, successes and failures, are things we carry with us in our own lives. Know that you're not alone, we've been with you every step of the way. We've followed your story and shared in your feats. We know, we're here, and we're listening. What is it that you want?

"I…want to be forgiven."

Oh Zack, to forgive is divine, and we are but human. As people, we get as close to perfect as humanly possible, which usually ends up killing us in the end. We seek the strength to not become part of the nightmare ourselves; the terrible things that are done to us, that we witness done to others, and that we in turn do unto others as they have done unto us. In the end, we are all monsters, and honor is something we strive for, something we'll never quite get all the way. But maybe if we can endure like you, and not give into hate, then we can have honor as well.

Sleep now, young angel. You've given enough. Know that you haven't failed. Death is a part of life. The acceptance of death is a virtue of manhood. Everyone has to die. Only when one has acknowledged their own death as absolute can one begin to help others. Death is the warrior's way. When his sword has been taken from him, a warrior takes his own life in shame, to preserve his honor.

But you, Zack, you deserve to live.

"Those wings…I want them too."

He closed his eyes against the ocean sky, and prepared to let the darkness take him.

[Received Soul of Thamasa]


	53. Chapter 48 - The Price of Freedom

But in the place of darkness came light.

He blurred into focus for what seemed like the first time in forever, and shot awake at the sight of someone familiar.

Angeal.

He stood before Zack's cryotank, a look of disgust in his eyes.

"You call yourself SOLDIER? Pfft, you're a disgrace to the SOLDIER name."

He turned, silently disowning him, and started off.

"ANGEAL!" Zack screamed, but the man was through with the weakling he'd wasted his time on. "ANGEAL!"

Zack flailed, punched the glass, kicked like a child in the womb. Mad flaring of fists careening against his prison, his living tomb, and his knuckles bled tendrils of blood in the Mako. Harrowing impacts sent spider cracks across the glass, Zack threw everything of himself against the cryotank, shattering his confinement at last.

He toppled across the concrete floor in a flood of Mako and blood, ripping tubes and wires out of his skin. He was free!

Angeal was nowhere, but Zack's blurred vision fixed on Cloud's tank where he floated unconscious like a corpse. Urgency seized him, he threw himself at the tank, pounding to wake him. How to get him out?

There. Against the wall, Zack's sword leaned like it had been waiting for him all this time. He grabbed it in a daze and with a sensational swing shattered the glass of Cloud's tank. He toppled out in his own flood of Mako, where Zack caught him as they both fell to the ground.

His hand shot to Cloud's throat. He wasn't breathing! Zack got to his knees and clasped his hands over his diaphragm, slamming his weight down in chest compressions. Two rescue breaths, and Cloud still wasn't back.

"No!" Zack screamed, pumping his chest to a desperate count. "Come on. You're all I've got left!"

Two more breaths, and Cloud spurted up fluid, coughing like a drowning victim. Zack choked back tears as he rolled Cloud on his side, vomiting Mako and blood. Cloud shivered with blue lips, and his mouth muttered a single word.

"…_Mother." _

But Zack gaped in horror as he beheld Cloud. He'd doubled in size. His muscle tone was that of a grown man. They'd injected him with testosterone and Human Growth Hormone to make him more like Zack. Even his voice was a little deeper. Rage pooled in the back of Zack's throat, but he had to get them out of there.

Cloud was zoning, barely conscious and incoherent as Zack hauled him up. Arm over his shoulder, he dragged him past their shattered cryotanks, but caught something in his peripherals: A _third _cryotank.

Bold typeface peppered a status sheet that hung from the unused pod.

_TEST SUBJECT 3_

_NAME: N/A_

_STATUS: UNAPPREHENDED _

Zack smiled. _Atta girl!_

He grabbed Cloud's rifle off a table and they hobbled through the facility door, sounding an alarm. Flashing lights flared and Zack ran, dragging Cloud as fast as he could through blank corridors. The alarm blared, but so far no guards assailed them. Adrenaline drove Zack on as they barreled out a side door into the outside world, where glaring sunlight blinded Zack temporarily. He whirled back, but caught himself amid mad cycling of stress hormones. His training took over.

_C'mon SOLDIER, SA-Up, Situational Awareness…What's around you?...Shed…Go. _

He dashed like a first person shooter game to the shed with Cloud on his shoulder, and hunkered down behind it. His heartrate bashed in his ears like machine guns.

_Breathe…One…Two…Escape route…Down that way…Guarded?...No…Go. _

He ran down an embankment sliding on sluice crevices and rubble. They careened through bramble and bushes, scratching their arms and faces like clawing cats. But in Zack's panicked state he could have taken a bowie knife to the back and felt a bee sting. They trod onto level ground to find the Shinra Manor leering before them, boarded up tight and abandoned.

Zack ripped the board off a back door in a desperate heave, but it only gave halfway. That was good, if the board stayed on there'd be no way to tell they were inside. Zack shoved them both through and hauled them into musty darkness.

The manor loomed in haunted silence, stillness like a century had passed. They needed to get their bearings. Zack dragged them up the stairs and into a side bedroom, which was furnished with a twin bed and wardrobe closet. He plopped Cloud down on the bed and stood back to examine him.

Oh shoot, he was _glowing_! Not being Mako-infused, Cloud had a dangerously low tolerance to the enhancing substance and was now in the critical stages of Mako Poisoning. Zack's uniform was resistant to saturation on a molecular level—good ole' SOLDIER uniform deposits—but Cloud's Infantry greens were practically cloth and rags.

Zack stripped him in a rush and tried to dry him with the blankets. Opening the wardrobe looking for anything to dress him in, he was dumbstruck when he saw what hung on a rack in mint condition. A SOLDIER 1st Class uniform.

Zack didn't think before throwing it on Cloud, and to his surprise, even the boots were a perfect fit.

"Man, whose uniform is this?" Zack asked, missing the framed photos of a boy with shards of blue hair on the night stand.

Okay, what was the plan? Get out of Nibelheim, and survive. Zack's tunnel vision had him wide eyed and jumping at creaks in the floorboards. Extreme paranoia ensuing, they couldn't linger here. He gathered up Cloud and hobbled down out of the manor.

Zack expected the grounds to be teaming with Shinra personnel, but so far not a soul in sight until they reached the lighthouse. An impromptu helipad had been set up there where Hojo and his familiar lab-coated assistant conversed outside a B1 Beta Transport Chopper prepping for takeoff. Zack and Cloud ducked down behind the building as that monster Hojo boarded the helicopter and took off, leaving his assistant alone.

Zack's SOLDIER instincts flipped into full-assault mode, double-tap style. He took Cloud's rifle letting him slide down against the wall, and crouched ready like a panther. As soon as the assistant rounded the corner, Zack sprang on him before he had a chance to scream, a fierce punch to the stomach and an uppercut knocking him down. Zack aimed the rifle point-blank and screamed in his face.

"_WHAT DID YOU DO TO US!_"

"_Pleeeeeaase! _Don't hurt me, I'm sorry. Help!"

"QUIET!" the rifle butt slammed into his face. The assistant whimpered an apology and shut up.

"Talk," Zack commanded in a murderous tone.

"O-o-o-okay, I'm s-s-sorry. I was just an assistant assigned to The Jenova Project."

"Explain. And make it short."

"Um, the clones we created straight from the source are all dead, but the second generation of clones we created from those clones—you and the others—were used instead. We were trying to make up for the loss of our only successful experiment—Sephiroth. We tried mind-wiping the successful specimen with mixed results, but the failed one and the successful one were too far apart in strength. So we transplanted seminal vesicles—"

_They did WHAT?_

Zack yanked the assistant up by the collar, dragging him toward a tool shed.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Come on," Zack ordered, cocking Cloud's rifle.

"Wait, you don't have to do this!"

"You'll give us away."

"No! Please! I have a son. He's your age…"

The scientist pleaded with Zack, but his training flashed back to him from SOLDIER, to the phase on handling hostages.

_At some point in your careers, you may come across PASSIVE HOSTILES. These are typically unarmed civilians, but still pose a major threat. They will try to appeal to your emotions to undermine your good judgment, offering you money, sexual favors, anything to stay alive, but always remember the lives of your fellow teammates. We will teach you how to neutralize these targets in a calm and professional manner. _

"I have money. I have access to the Dancer kept in the labs. I can help you escape! Help! Don't!"

Zack forced the man to his knees and shot him in the back of the head. He emerged cold and emotionless, slinging the rifle back over his shoulder.

Cloud stirred against the lighthouse, and all Zack's emotions flew back to him. He ran over to shake his friend.

"Cloud! It's me! It's Zack."

Cloud's eyes flickered open, glowing in true neon. _Mako eyes. _

"Zack," he gasped, reaching out his hand. Zack cried as he touched his fingers to his. "I had nightmares."

"I know. It's okay. I'm here now."

He wrapped Cloud up in a strong hug. The reality of who he was holding, who this _was_, made him clutch all the more tighter, even if Cloud didn't know himself.

But Cloud shook in spasms, and Zack gaped to see him glowing in Mako-stained patches on his body. He dunked his hand in a water trough and scrubbed the spots as hard as he could to no avail. Zack whirled in his mind, preparing to tell Cloud he'd failed.

"Cloud…I can't get the Mako off your skin."

Cloud struggled in weak coughs.

"Oblivion Lake…A leak in the Lifestream…Flows from a glacier to Nibelheim."

"How far?"

"Too far…100 miles."

"Let's go." Zack threw Cloud's arm over his shoulder. "We'll shoot for 10 miles a day. Aim to get there by the end of the week."

Something vibrated in his pocket. _His phone! _Thank god for ridiculously expensive uniforms that had to be dry-cleaned in a Hadron Collider, and zip-pockets that repelled lava! The Mako had charged it to 101% battery. He ripped it out to see his email ap buzzing with over one thousand old messages, the top ones from his squad back at Shinra. His friends! They were probably worried sick. He opened it in a rush.

* * *

To: ZackFair21**_at_**SOLDIER_**dot**_Shinra_**dot**_mil

From: JordiedotKunsel**_at_**Turks**_dot_**Shinra**_dot_**mil

Re: Contact me!

Zack,

You need to get in touch with me as soon as you get this. I know you're in over your head, and I want to help. I'm your friend and I'll never betray you. But Shinra is bigger than you and me. You need to come in. We need to work this out or people are going to die. I know this might seem harsh, but I want to keep you alive.

Kunsel

* * *

To: ZackFair21**_at_**SOLDIER_**dot**_Shinra_**dot**_mil

From: ImLuxiere**_at_**SOLDIER_**dot**_Shinra_**dot**_mil

Re: Plan

Hey Zack! It's Luxiere. What happened, bro? Man, this all got crazy. Everyone's looking for you! Hey, maybe we can work the system. You should let me capture you. I can talk for you and convince them to let you go. I'll bet it would land me a sick promotion. Let me know what you think.

* * *

To: ZackFair21**_at_**SOLDIER_**dot**_Shinra_**dot**_mil

From: DamarisBboyxxx**_at_**SOLDIER_**dot**_Shinra_**dot**_mil

Re: WTF

Come on, Zack. At least a holding cell is better than a coffin. Think about the rest of us!

* * *

To: ZackFair21**_at_**SOLDIER_**dot**_Shinra_**dot**_mil

From: XxAlairnumber1xX**_at_**SOLDIER_**dot**_Shinra_**dot**_mil

Re: Hey

Come in, Zack. Or don't. Do whatever you want. Not like I'm being put up to this or anything.

* * *

To: ZackFair21**_at_**SOLDIER_**dot**_Shinra_**dot**_mil

From: The_One_And_Only_Swift**_at_**SOLDIER_**dot**_Shinra_**dot**_mil

Re: Yooooo

Yo Zack! When we gonna party again? Come back in and hit me up ASAP. Forget everything, man, we cool.

* * *

Zack couldn't believe it. They were trying to bring him in! Kunsel had come into classified intel and scored a sweet promotion in exchange for his silence, and his best friend. Luxiere saw the Turks handing out pay-grades like candy and wanted in. They'd probably had to twist Damaris' arm, but not that much. Alair straight up didn't care. And knowing Swifty, he'd done it for drugs.

_When the metal hits the meat, you find out who your real friends are. _

His spam folder caught his eye. One message. He opened it out of curiosity.

* * *

To: ZackFair21**_at_**SOLDIER_**dot**_Shinra_**dot**_mil

From: yxysodfkejwoiefjske23542395kdfjslke_**at**_no-reply_**dot**_admin**_dot_**mil

Re: 2348234893202-10939

P\ |_| |\|

* * *

A chill ran up Zack's spine as he ripped the sim cards out of their phones. Shinra couldn't track them if they didn't have a signal. In a rage, he ran to the cliff and threw them as far as he could over the edge.

"Stupid goddamn phone it's fucking pink!"

He hoisted Cloud up and they hobbled together on the road leading down through Nibelheim. The place was burned. It would be a ghost town…or so Zack thought…

As soon as they reached the main intersection, they found quarantine tents erected, and to their horror, men in full biohazard suits dawning gasmasks.

The lock-down personnel, resembling bloated larva in their plastic bio-suits and vinyl masks, stood stark still like death itself had swept over them. A cranial mist pooled in the town like grey void, a mystic pallor that chilled the blood in icy fear. Zack and Cloud froze. No one moved for long moments that passed like lifetimes.

A step forward from Zack, and no one protested. Zack eased his way toward the exit, and no one stepped in. They were letting them go! The possibility that they'd been ordered not to touch the specimens didn't cross Zack's mind as he ran, booking it with Cloud hobbling as fast as his bruised legs could manage.

They fled out into wilderness, toward the fabled lake that would cure their ailments and set them on a new course home.

[Received SOLDIER Outfit]


	54. Chapter 49 - Where Angels Fear To Tread

They made it as far as the reservoir before having to break. Night reeled in that familiar darkness that was friend to all SOLDIER's, cloaking them in shadows that blended with their black uniforms.

Laying Cloud in a thicket of moss, Zack hiked for water. At the edge of the lake, running hands through his hair, the sheer magnitude of their situation slammed into him like a Fira bolt.

They were on the run, from their own Army, who had betrayed them and left them to die.

A solemn sigh escaped him.

"Angeal. What now?"

Whizz of air. Behind him. Zack ripped his sword out in a deflecting slice around, knocking a pinwheel away. His wings appeared in flaring threat, jolted into Combat Mode. The whirling weapon returned to its wielder's lithe hand, and Zack gasped to see a familiar little spitfire with red hair wet from the lake mist.

Cissnei stepped from the shadows, and Zack's sword dropped. A silent moment of shared awe passed between them, revenant and sacred. Somewhere, beyond everything, parts of them were so glad to see each other.

But Zack stood stoic, a strand of oil hair whipping across his ocean eyes. He looked so like someone who'd trained him; a proud, dark gladiator standing strong against the world. Still in Combat Mode, his wings fanned out in great pearlescent trains, and Cissnei held back tears.

"Can you see them?" he asked her. With a whisper and a nod, she replied.

"Yes."

"And do they make me a monster?"

"No."

Her voice was pleading, reaching for him in that soft sigh. His eyes contained a culminated calm, boring into her like swords.

"If I'm not a monster, why are you hunting me?"

"Zack, the escaped specimens, we were called to bring them in. You have to come with us right now before this gets any worse."

"You expect me to just surrender to you? After what I've been through? Are you an _idiot_?"

"We're not going to hand you over to Shinra, Zack. We want to help you."

"Bull! Clandestine works for Shinra!"

"But we're _not _Shinra."

He went silent as she took a breath, attempting to bring this situation down. She remembered Zack when he'd been scared and cornered, and tried her best to be supportive amid this chaos that had found them at the edge of the world.

"Shinra knows you've escaped. The entire Army is on high alert. They'll be combing the land for you. If you return to Midgar, you face a firing squad."

"If they see me, they'll all get behind me and stand against you."

"They don't know who you are. Even your fan club's been deleted."

"What are you—"

"Code: Zero Dark!" she shouted, and he froze. Her struggling eyes were full of fear that radiated onto him. "They killed everyone. Your friends are all dead. A force of all new blood has been recruited. The SOLDIER's in now have never even heard your name and they _will _kill you. You need to come with us!"

Now Zack whirled in his heart. All of his nightmare scenarios had come true, and he had no idea what to do.

"What about Cloud?" he asked, but Cissnei shook her head.

"…I can't save everyone. I can only save you."

"I can't just leave him!"

"He's unconscious, Zack. He's very sick. He'll go in his sleep. He won't even know you left him."

"And you expect me to live with that?"

"I expect you to _live." _

"Do you know who he is?"

"Yes. Sephiroth wanted you to know who he was too."

"You knew?"

"Oh my God, Zack. Who do you think we are? We've been watching you since you were born. We know it all, down to the name of the first girl you slept with. You think those men in suits who came to your high school were recruiters? We know everything about you, Zack."

"You're spooks. You're a bunch of goddamn spooks, Cissnei…Is that even your real name?"

Dead air caught in her lungs, she took a step back. Zack couldn't believe it! His hands flew to his head in shock, looking around for some semblance of sanity in this mad nightmare.

"Zack, Aerith still waits for you," Cissnei pleaded. "We can take you to her."

"Yeah, you'll take me out back and put a bullet in my head and if I'm not lucky her too!"

She was whirling, desperate to bring him to her.

"What would you have me do?"

"Let us go. Turn around. Forget my name. Never come to me again."

"Don't ask me to do that, Zack. I don't want to. I don't want to forget you."

"You forgot about me when they stuck me in a cryotank! You probably signed the order!"

_"WE _were the Extraction Team. _WE _were en route to get you. But Hojo got there first! Please come with me now."

"I don't believe you! If you're not going to hand me over then why are you even here?"

"I care about you!"

Now the tears fell from her frantic eyes, doubled over like an old girlfriend begging for him back. Zack shook his head, tinged with disgust. So many people had hurt him and turned the tables on him, claiming the victim because _they _had feelings. He wasn't going to accept that excuse anymore.

"Not enough to let me go."

She trembled, out of comebacks. They both stood on the sword's edge of a crisis with no way to go back or move forward.

"Zack…this is my job!"

"It's just a job, Cissnei. At the end of the day, no matter how elite you are, your job title is not your name. You can walk away."

"You can't walk away from this, Zack! You have nowhere to run!"

"Just run away Cissnei! We can outrun the Army, but the Turks…"

"Please, Zack. Just come with me!"

"Please, just leave us alone!"

"You can't force my hand, Zack!"

"Don't make me defend myself, Cissnei!"

"Stop! I don't want to hurt you!"

"I don't want to kill you!"

"Zack!"

She let the pinwheel fly, and his slash sent it whirling back at her to slice the edge of her neck. She fell, and he lurched forward.

He saw her bleeding, her hand pressed to her wound, and everything in his body wanted to run to her. She looked up at him from the ground with terror in her eyes, the same gripping horror that left him gaping like he'd backhanded her. That look on her face would stay with him for the rest of his life.

He ran. Bash-barreling through brush, he didn't care how mangled he got, as long as he got away. Flashes of his life assaulted his senses as he fled, flying from everything he knew back to the one thing he cared about. He found Cloud in the thicket where he'd left him motionless, and his terror ratcheted full-throttle.

He knelt down, jamming his knuckles into Cloud's sternum. When he stirred in pain, Zack gaped in relief.

But he heard light footsteps behind him and shot to his feet. Cissnei had the nerve to follow him, a folded kerchief pressed to her neck. He flared his sword at her along with his still gleaming wings.

"Stay back!"

"Zack, he doesn't look so good."

"Don't come any closer!"

Her phone rang, and they both froze. The world stood still on its axis as the ringtone echoed in the forest. After a long time, she reached in her pocket.

"Hey!" Zack lurched forward, but she held her hand up, reassuring him. Eyes on the ground, she answered.

"Tseng, I've lost the target…Understood," and she hung up.

Zack stared at her in confusion.

"Why are you doing this?"

A small step forward, and his sword came up. Another step, and he held it out with one hand. The fierce look in his eyes let her know he was not playing around. She passed the sharp edge of his blade, letting it taste her neck, and kept coming.

"Wings…symbolize freedom…" she whispered as she went to him. "They don't symbolize monsters."

Hands on his chest, immobilizing him, she brought her lips to his. Soft warmth wrapped around him like wings, holding him in an embrace that erased the past. She made the war in his heart stop for a swift moment, pulling away in a gentle sigh. Zack felt her drop something in his hand, a ring of keys.

She turned away without a word, without a last glance, and left him there. She walked like a weight had fallen from her shoulders and Zack felt a similar burden lift from his.

He knew he would never see her in that black suit again.

[Received Keychain]


	55. Acknowledgements

Dear Readers,

You have followed this story diligently all the way to this point, where we find ourselves at the apex at last.

Writing this story has been a journey and an education. What started out as a need for closure and literary justice has turned into eye-opening validation. I expected to get a few hits from merciful collectors. Instead, this project has been profiled by blogs, shared independently on social media, pirated and printed, and has landed the authors introductions to publishing professionals and invites to exclusive literary events, to which we are floored.

The biggest lesson I've learned from this is that if you build it, they will come, and furthermore, you _must _build it. Many creatives abound who are working on magnum opus' and polishing their projects to perfection. But meanwhile dotting all those t's and crossing all those i's (pun) is doing nothing to jettison the work out into the world where it belongs. When I took a leap and threw up this project, I was rewarded with 11k Twitter followers and the start of a platform. That platform has gotten my foot in the blastdoor of a bottlenecked industry, whereas before I was standing outside like everyone else in a line that wasn't moving.

I recommend every writer undertake a project like this, because writing to a story that was already formatted taught me how to format my own original story. I learned pacing, proper narrative arc, character interaction, and technical skills that have helped my writing shine.

I also learned personal lessons that I would never have found if not for this project. I was introduced to real philosophers like Miyamoto Musashi, the greatest Samurai of whom I based Sephiroth. He taught me that to defeat one enemy is the same as defeating ten thousand enemies, so as long as I've overcome one challenge in life, I'll be able to overcome any challenge that comes my way, ever. Marcus Aurelius taught me that people are going to "f—k your s—t up" but no matter what you do, you can't show that it's beaten you. If you think you're tough then you are tough, but if you think you're beaten then you really are. People can beat you up, but that mindset will keep you getting up, and that's something that no one can take away from you.

The biggest challenge I experienced with this was dealing with the fans. My inbox is overflowing with hate for what I've done to a beloved franchise, and though it's easy to ignore and let the PM's pile up, what's harder is to avoid asking the question "why?" Trying to wrap my mind around the appeal of the bizarre, the offensive, the outlandish and melodramatic would cause me to spiral into existential crisis' of my own. Attempting to come to grips with why certain things are popular and tolerating it will drive a rational mind mad. I saw previews for a movie called "Zootopia" and was very afraid when the entire theater of grown adults was laughing. It shakes a mind to think that some people may not have emotionally developed past the age of 12, and these people are my peers, my colleagues, my bosses and my relatives.

What I feel upsets me about the fact that these things exist is that they take up real estate in the same places I go for entertainment; book stores, video game outlets, comic shops, movie theaters etc. This would be okay if that space wasn't severely limited, especially with the closing of indie bookstores and the glass ceiling for independent games and movies. The works of Team Obsidian have fallen into obscura, writers like Hiroshi Sakurazaka haven't released new novels in years, William Gibson wrote one good book and never did it again, no one's even heard of Logan's Run much less read it, everyone loves Yoshitaka Amano but nobody loves Angel's Egg, while Evangelion gets rave reviews and Exaella goes completely unnoticed, Dear Esther was a monument to gaming that could have been so much more, and how many people have even played the original Final Fantasy?

Our lone beacon of hope seems to fall on Black Mesa, a testament to fan-projects that will stand alone. It is their example that Team Wingless hopes to emulate in this sea of triple-A trash.

Now popular mulch occupies space where quality content used to be, and I can find nothing that will satiate my entertainment needs in the shallow branding machine that is the mainstream. In moments of frustration the thought blares, "if people would just grow up and stop liking this stuff, they'd stop making it."

Horror movies are another thing I can't wrap my mind around, and someone explained it to me once.

"It's just to feel something. It's just for the sensation, the rush, any rush. It's exciting and exhilarating to feel scared."

So in other words, there are people so emotionally numbed by the world that they need to be hit with a baseball bat to feel anything. That is a sad thought, making it almost possible for me to forgive the fact that a terrible horror flick got to occupy cinema space over an indie film that I may have crewed on just so someone with a bad life can feel something.

Again, it's easy enough to dismiss those things as long as I've found what _I'm _looking for. But the straw that broke the camel's back was when those themes found their way directly into my content, and surprised me.

It's not fair to start off a game with a coherent storyline—a young man and a mentor seeking a deserter to enforce consequences and grow along the way—and then CHANGE OF PLANS fuck my mentors I love this deserter because he's based on a pop star in japan and btw my mentors are all bad guys now BRANDING YAAAAY!

Plot twists from left-field are cheap and insulting. I wish people like Scorsese would crawl under a rock and die. It's akin to painting a beautiful canvas and then destroying it to be different. I can tell this game was obviously unfinished, but to have such a bizarre script following Junon after such a coherent and engrossing story makes me think that the head guy came back from vacation and fired everyone after they'd done all this work. There are strange scenes where Zack is sitting people down in tri-formations somewhere in supposedly destroyed Banora and eating apples with an ear-to-ear smile after being exposed to horrific experiments by the hands of a person who is sitting in one of his chairs…and where did these chairs come from? The sky? How did we know Sephiroth never turned the lights off? A basement window? I recall climbing down more than a few flights of stairs to accommodate such a window. There are threads upon threads on forums arguing why Sephiroth spontaneously develops schizophrenia from reading a letter, or why his personality does a 180 in literally a cutscene. I don't think I need to point out that _mental illness does not work this way_. Also the beyond-bizarre event of people "turning into clones" of other people throws one for a loop. Human cloning isn't like javascript, you can't go in and change stuff around like _their entire body composition _with some code when they're 30 years old. This game implied that they could turn people into other people and other people into monsters by plugging them into a computer and changing around their DNA with a password. The government cover-ups this game tried to portray made Watergate look like a joke, not to mention the resources such a cover-up might require would probably make the National Debt look like an allowance. I can tell that this game was released early seeing as there actually was no "Gift of the Goddess" that this game talked up as an eventual plot element. Guess they never got a chance to WRITE THAT PART.

What cut me deepest was the construction of the bond between Zack, Sephiroth, and the other characters, followed by the senseless destruction of it. To resolve with yourself that you would not just die, but you would burn alive for the person next to you is called the trench warfare mentality. It is the deepest form of love that human beings are capable of exuding. It changes you as a person. Once you experience it, you can never return to the individual you were before. To take something as deep as the trench mentality and exploit it for the whims of the anime community feels like losing my crew all over again.

I don't know how many people are military, paramilitary, or first responders but the bond that develops between oneself and ones teammates and mentors is indescribable. I am a former firefighter. For a game to show me a bond I held dear with my own crew and then needlessly cast it aside for shock value was too shocking for this civil servant, to the point of a breakdown on my end. Everything hit too close to home. When I was dealing with my own PTSD and was home sick, this RPG about soldiers brought me a little bit of comfort and allowed me in a strange way to start moving past my own traumas vicariously through a main character that I could relate too…then sadistically ripped it away. How this game did not receive an M rating was beyond me. I never would have played it if I would have known that what I was about to experience was not a validating cameo to my own paramilitary service, but a psychological j-horror film disguised as a harmless fantasy game.

The blatant denial of obvious explicit themes in this game by blindly devout fans has dazed me as well. Countless arguments attempting to point out how Angeal actually kidnapped Aerith before the Modeoheim level and _no _she wasn't just _bopping around Midgar _somewhere put me in a haze. When Genesis asked Sephiroth to "share his cells with him" whilst offering him an apple, what do you think he was talking about? It was ruthlessly obvious how Sephiroth rapes Tifa in the Nibelheim reactor, and even cutscenes from previous games fail to refute this. If game developers make statements of plausible deniability, it's still obvious what they were trying to infer, what was staged and set up to toe the line of legality in ESRB ratings to cock-tease socially-isolated virgins of whom this game's demographic seems to be peppered with. My first thought was "okay, if a judge watches this scene, what do you think they are going to think?" I've had people send me (unsolicited) 10 page outlandish explanations about why I'm wrong and everything was really a big tea party. People can attest that the sky is green all they want, but the sky is blue with or without them.

It's also come to my attention that people don't even understand the events of the original game. Fans would PM me asking to clarify what happened in a fragment of my story, I'd explain, and then they'd explain what happened in the original version of the story…it was the exact same explanation. Sometimes these dense individuals helped inspire me to write my character Zack, and other times they made me want to move to a beach island and shut off my internet.

How people need a bat to the head that this game delivered in order to feel some semblance of exhilaration out of life is a message to us about our failure as a society. I don't know who is to blame, but people need to go out and live life, take a job instructing skydiving, go fight terrorists in Syria, volunteer with Americorps, have a relationship with a traveling juggler, or go explore abandoned buildings for the sake of the awesome photo-op. Do things to seek real thrills beyond the screen of a videogame, that way when people do sit down to relax and enjoy a story, it can be a source of validation and zen rather than a simulated proto-rush akin to amphetamines.

I am grateful to everyone who has found their own validation in this story. I'd receive messages of support amid the scourge of hate mail. Other writers would email me asking for advice on my writing process. A woman with a deaf child was given hope after reading about my deaf character Sephiroth. A pair of sisters text each other whenever a new chapter is posted. They made this whole project worth it. If I made even one person's day with my story, then it was worth writing.

I'd like to indirectly thank my sources of inspiration in the videogame world: Team Obsidian, Team Ico and Team Silent for assuring me that amazing content can be created and be successful. I'd especially like to thank Team Black Mesa for being my source of inspiration for Team Wingless, and assurance of what a fan project can become with dedication and direction.

I'd like to thank a user named chickenscrews for giving me invaluable, extensive, fundamental feedback that has made me world's better as a writer.

I'm especially grateful to my best friend and member of Team Wingless, Hadrian Vincent, for being the voice that developed the narrative and bounced ideas right back at me the entire time. His artist page is listed in my bio, and you can check out any future work from our team or his own phenomenal projects in music, art, and literature.

Dear Gackt, you Japanese Justin Bieber, there's a forest somewhere in Japan that I think you should visit.

Most importantly, I'd like to thank you, the fans and supporters who have enjoyed this story every step of the way. I'd also like to thank the haters for giving this project momentum nonetheless.

And now, for your long wait and steadfast support, I present to you the last few chapters, the final steps of Zack and Cloud. I hope their journey has changed you as much as it has changed me.

-Team Wingless


	56. Chapter 50 - Oblivion Lake

Zack's jaw dropped when he found it parked off the road…

A Hitachi G-Series dirtbike, mint with custom decals, topped off and tricked out for stunt riding. _Stuntin' _was Zack's middle name—next to the unpronounceable one that he told no one.

He loaded Cloud up and they rode like mad men through brutal terrain, bee lining in sick glee for the higher mountains in the distance. Forget a week, it took them 18 hours.

The glacier was a monumental slab of permafrost overgrown from the Mesozoic era, cloud-capped and cow-toed between the Sierra Nevada Mountains. But no lake.

A raging river rampaged through a crevasse in the landscape. All rivers came from somewhere. They followed it upstream to a cavernous opening in the mountainside, where Zack carried Cloud arm-over-shoulder to the source.

They walked into a galaxy. Demantoid stalactites shone in glittering alabaster and quartzite, neon tendrils of aquarian luster streamed through the cavern like a geode. The soft blue bio-glow guided Zack into an igneous underworld of gemstone, where his footfalls splashed and he looked down. Glowing water lapped his boots.

_The Lifestream. _

A luminous lake lay before them, a hidden cove shrouded by an overhang exposed to the night sky. The water was docile and sacred, brining in a humming lull against the smooth sandstone.

Zack stripped Cloud bare and lowering his shaking body into the shallow steppe of the icy lake, he got to work like a nurse's aid. Scrubbing with a handful of moss until his skin was raw in patches, he gasped as the healing waters stripped the Mako like battery acid, dissolving the viscous foreign fluid. He cleaned him like a parent, a priest, sparing no modesty in a mad effort to banish the cursed concoction from Cloud's body.

"Sorry man, I have to get down here quick."

When Cloud's skin no longer glowed, he dressed him and laid him in a thicket of moss to dry. He got a roaring fire going with driftwood and Fira magic, burning as hot as he could get it to stave off any fever. Cloud came to in a haze of dull pain and amnesia.

He saw Zack sitting cross-legged, staring a thousand miles off into the flames. Rolling over with a groan, his hand slapped the lake's edge as he glanced down into mirror waters. That's when he sat up.

His face. He touched his jaw and his hands felt foreign, staring at them in front of him for a long time. With abused mind he gazed at his reflection in the water, absorbing the truth of the glowing Mako eyes he saw there. Zack's voice brought him back.

"It was Genesis, Cloud." Zack spoke from far away, stemming a stick in the flames. "He killed Sephiroth in the manor and took his body. Genesis killed all those people. He was in the reactor, not Sephiroth."

Cloud's memory returned to him, and his psyche adjusted to this new revelation in a slow calm. He scooted closer to the fire and took on Zack's seeming lucid pose, studying the flames as if he'd find some meaning there to everything. Cloud's eyes wandered to Zack and away, but Zack's eyes stayed transfixed in the crackling glow, staring off into somewhere far away and long ago.

"How did he die?" Zack asked in a soft voice. Cloud found himself in blue calm amid a blanket of heavy despair.

"I threw him into the reactor…with his daikatana."

Those words seemed to awaken something in Zack, that brought him back with a gaze of awe at Cloud. But now it was Cloud who stared a thousand miles into the fire, while a subtle grin crossed Zack's eyes.

"We'll have to get you a sword. You're pretty good with that rifle but a SOLDIER's heart is his blade, if you're going to live up to that black uniform you're wearing…" Cloud's eyes shot up to meet Zack's smirk. "…Two ways into SOLDIER right?"

The boys locked eyes for a moment, and something in the universe was final right then and there. They drifted off into their own thoughts, stemming sticks against the charcoal layer on the rock bed.

"What were his last words?" Zack asked, to which Cloud shrugged.

"He didn't say anything, just fell into the reactor."

"Did you see him die?"

"I saw him fall."

An itch, in the back of Zack's mind.

"…Into the Mako?"

"I couldn't see that far down."

"So you didn't _see _him die?"

"No one could survive that fall. Why?"

Black Ice. Zack's blood froze.

Pebbles tumbling from the ceiling made Zack jump with his sword out. Gasping as he scanned frantic in the dark, the vast empty cave didn't seem so vast anymore, or empty.

"Zack, what's wrong?" Cloud stood with him.

"We have to go. Now."

Scream of metal. A hyperslash of light sliced through a huge stalactite overhead. Zack dove into Cloud, shoving them out of the way as the rock spire shattered down on their fire. Zack and Cloud shook themselves off as a mercurial laugh emanated from the dark. A silver-haired vestige pierced the curtain of dust, and the boys froze.

Sephiroth stood a pale poltergeist, pallid skin snaked with black veins. Or was it Genesis who stood before them a wax homunculus? He strode with a gaunt limp, like animated death, and spoke in that velveteen voice that echoed through the cavern.

"At long last, I have you. Well met Zack Fair, SOLDIER 1st Class, and SOLDIER Cloud Strife, I now presume? Did you think I would not know where you would run to? I have awaited your flight in these tunnels all this time."

Zack stood strong to meet the monster, wild fear in his eyes.

"What do you want with me? You have your body. What use am I to you?"

"I have not come for you, you failed clone. I've come for him, the last perfect specimen of Project S."

Clouds eyes flew wide as Sephiroth's hand raised to him, and Zack pulled Cloud behind him.

"Over my dead body!"

"Oh, Zack, that's the idea."

Sephiroth brought forth the severed head of Jenova, and the hull of the mountain began to quake. A lurid black light leapt from the indigo eyes of Mother's medusian mantle, engulfing the form of Sephiroth in crimson stratovariance. The head fused with his torso, and Sephiroth's body began to change.

But something was wrong. The fusion wouldn't take. The monster that had been Sephiroth found himself caught between two states of evolution, serrated in some multidimensional biorift. Jagged light seared in frustration, taking on a proto-angelic metawinged monoform, a sentient Safer Genesis.

Zack gaped at the hovering megademon with seven winged appendages, and cast Libra to see what he was dealing with.

_Name: GENEROTH_

_HP: ?_

"Lovely. Boss Battle time!"

"How can I help, Zack?" Cloud asked as Zack flared his sword.

"Potions, right at my head!"

Zack's wings appeared in Combat Mode as he ran in to face the dark angel.

Generoth rose up a mighty malady and shot in razor precision for the SOLDIER. They cross-bashed blades mid-strafe to send a shooting halo of sparks around their arena. Rushing rays of scatterlight wisked for Zack in boomeranging blade-shots from the crimson Curtana that overwhelmed him, overran him, making him duck and dodge into a hasty strategic retreat. Zack was scrambling under malefic aerial light-beams that slashed and seared for his every move.

A sharp edge caught his torso, drawing blood, but a Potion jingled above Zack for a split second that returned him to full health. He turned to see Cloud run out from behind a boulder with a determined grin, shadowing them.

But now Generoth had seen his true target and turned away from Zack toward new blood. Cloud fell back amid an oncoming rush of wind, but Zack strafed with a powerful wing beat to bash-tackle the enemy off the beach.

He drove them out onto the water where their strife sent them zipping over the surface of the lake, and Zack knew he was outgunned three wings to one. It didn't matter. He had to get him away from Cloud. With the precision of an osprey he darted away and shot back toward his foe in snapping swipes. A radial arc-ray seared from the Curtana in a halogen halo of light…Generoth was charging.

Fierce dread seized Zack, and he flew up and away from the lake, into the sky, toward the stars that trembled in flickering fear. Apocalyptic resonance rained from the stratosphere in flaming aerolite's as Generoth called on his Black Materia.

He summoned an expanding globe of darkness, a supermassive black hole to shatter the fabric of space and time around them. The dimensional universe lay dissected in finite lattices of logic, streaking in arcane parabolas of sacred geometry.

The warring Angels flew in a noctilucent spiral forming a binary star, and Zack alone was their aphelion, the furthest point from the light. Farther and higher and onward he flew toward the stars. He was among them now, one of them, as light flowed from his sword like it gleaned off the corona of Hadean quasars.

Zack stood eclipsed against the cosmos at the point of singularity to behold the constellations Sirius, Vega, and Gemini, the beading stars of Arcturus, Regulus, Fomalhaut, Achernar, and Altair, and the moon sisters of Adrastea, Amalthea, Elara, Galatea, and Io. A hundred-hundreds of nebulous clusters clouded the astral annulus within the spectral space Generoth had cleared.

The monster that was Genesis effloresced within an axial aurora of chromospheric sheerlight, coalescing in the eye of the solar storm that grew into a fierce pulsar of nuclear fission and rage. The galactic rift torn asunder brought forth a celestial body of colossally unstable _Dark Energy. _Zack's heart beat in his chest as he turned about in the sky, a wide-open target on a stellar event horizon.

A moment of elapsed consciousness, and the dark angel hurled the hyperionic surge of antimatter in a hyper-luminescent Supernova. Zack threw his hands in front of him as his last act in life.

But something colossal deflected the blast. A barrier enclosed Zack in a protective luminary ring…Wings of light and dark.

Zack found himself taken outside the world, suspended against a sky frozen in time. He saw her wreathed in a hue of emerald, lithe and airy with hair like silky tidal waves.

"_Ifah!" _

Her name flowed from his mouth like water. She wisped before him like ivy vines, a teal nymph who reminded him so much of a girl he once knew. With little palms she summoned a specter of white light, molded it into an orb, and offered it to him.

"A Gift…_for me?"_

Zack gasped as her jeweled eyes met his, beckoning. The holy orb floated to him, and merged into his heart with a warm sensation. But his smile faded as a chilling revelation crept over his soul.

_"..._Am I going to die?"

And her eyes fell, lips cast downward in a sullen song. Zack held in tears.

"...Then, why save me?"

But she glanced up with a mischievous glint in her irises. _You know the answer to that._ An evil streak returned to Zack with a mean grin.

"Oh, ah-ha-ha. So I can go out with a bang!"

She smiled like lightning and vanished, taking the time loop and leaving him to fly.

He flared his wings against the phenomenal night, fire roaring from somewhere deep within. Sword raised skyward, he summoned celestial light.

"Here comes the big one, you bastard!"

He flung his huge blade down, sending searing Meteor Shots shooting from the stratosphere. They bashed into Genesis, knocking him from the corporeal form of Sephiroth back to his rust-haired vestige in a tattered Tiamat longcoat. His body slammed into the beach, where an enraged angel with a Buster Sword was fast on his tail to finish him off.

He bore down on Genesis in monumental megaslashes that crashed on a desperate upturned Curtana. A powerful wind-up and slam-bash threw the red angel back. Zack pounced like a predator on prey, slashing Genesis' weakened low guard. The Curtana sliced a spiraling arc that slid off the blade of the Buster Sword and missed flesh by inches. Zack ran into his attacks like it was the last thing he'd ever do in life. What did it matter? He was going to die, right?

Genesis staggered amid the barrage of bashes, and for a split-second he left an opening for his exposed torso. Zack's vision narrowed into focus.

It was there, like Sephiroth had shown him. He took it.

He dashed across Genesis' body in a streaking line, but Zack found no reason to stop. He whipped back into another blinding slash, and another, drawing bloodlines in a star pattern. With the rage of a thousand angels Zack turned Sephiroth's signature Single-Slash into an antithetical Octaslash.

Genesis staggered, his sword fallen, his body sliced to ribbons. Life left him in ripping rays of light.

"You fool! My body lieth, my soul doth roam!"

He exploded in a dire blast of sheerlight, his aura streaming up into the sky. Zack heaved in angry breaths as his mortal enemy disappeared into the atmosphere. This time, Zack _saw _him die.

But Cloud knelt by the water's edge, hovering over another body that lied peaceful in the sand. Sephiroth lay where Genesis had left him, porcelain skin no longer pallid in degradation. Zack went to them and knelt beside the body. The silver man looked so peaceful in sleep, lips curled into something like a satisfied grin. Life's purpose fulfilled, Sephiroth slept content in eternal rest.

But Zack bled inside, kneeling across from Cloud over this man who had taken care of them, who was the reason they were both here. His hands trembled in glittering sand.

"I can't do it again. This is the second time I've had to bury family."

"But Zack, this time, you're not alone."

Cloud's hard Mako eyes hit Zack like a meteor. Cloud _knew. _They both did, and somehow, always had.

Together, they lowered Sephiroth's body into the water. It took everything they had to let him go. They stood submerged in Oblivion Lake watching him slip underneath the tide and float away into the Lifestream.

[Received Divine Slayer]


	57. Chapter 51 - Heavenfall

They rode the bike until it ran out of gas, which was the second saddest day of Zack's life. They laid it on its side and had a mock-funeral. Zack even shed a real tear. A Hitachi G-Series Dirtbike, mint with custom decals, abandoned in the middle of nowhere. What a tragedy!

Into the wilderness they fled, hot-footing it into deep woods away from Shinra Search and Destroy teams. Zack hunted small game with Cloud's rifle, though he couldn't bring himself to shoot squirrels. A thick canopy hid them from roving helicopters sweeping a wide grid across everywhere and nowhere. Zack had to climb a tree to discern true North, sticking to a course like an airship pilot with his heart set on one destination: Home.

Cloud had his good days and his bad, but when they were bad, they were terrible. Some days Zack couldn't move him, and had to curl up with him for body warmth just to keep him alive. Cloud couldn't keep food or water down. Sometimes Zack swore he wouldn't make it. On those days as Cloud slumped over with shallow breaths, he'd sit beside him, _talking _to him. He told him everything, opening up to him in a way he'd never done with anyone.

Zack was 18 when he lost his virginity, older than Cloud. Was it really so surprising? He was on the _swim team_. It's why his stepfather threw him out, saying he'd strayed from some "path" or something. Zack had always wanted to make it off the Reservation, his hometown of Gongaga being a dilapidated cesspool for the Lakota Tribe, and his stepfather putting him out seemed like the world's way of telling him that he was made for bigger things.

Moving to the city with nothing and joining SOLDIER facilitated for Zack something akin to a freshman year in college, where he was flooded with new friends and new experiences. But thinking back on it, he wasn't even that loose of a guy. He'd always called back every girl he'd been with, and it was they who wanted to leave it as is, earning him a rep as a guy who ended things on good terms…Except when it came to his family.

His submissive Native mother and her Aryan preacher of a husband wouldn't look Zack in the eye. Unable to have children of his own, the fundamental man was stuck with this half-blooded Lakota boy whom he refused to call his son. Together, they had single-handedly almost ruined his life…Until he met his real father.

Zack couldn't talk about Sephiroth yet. He wasn't ready. Instead, he talked about Angeal.

He'd called him _Dad_ once, as a joke when Angeal had yelled at him to clean his mess of a bunk, but the pause in both of them confirmed that it felt right. Zack had always wished he'd had the nerve to say it again, and all the times Angeal left it wide open told Zack that he probably wished it too in the worst way. He never gotten to tell Angeal the one thing he'd wanted to say.

He told Cloud about the first time he'd met Angeal, the _real _story, being honest with himself about it for the first time.

Zack had been marching down the hallway in HQ as if to his death sentence. Angeal knew about Zack. _Everyone _knew about the rookie who couldn't follow directions or sit still to save his life. He was what old-timers in the Unit called an "80-High-Def." Someone lied to the recruiters to get into SOLDIER. The kid was a walking medical DQ.

It's not like he ever had much of a chance. Minorities had a hard time in SOLDIER and there were people paid way more than anyone trying to figure out why. But one thing convinced Angeal that Zack wasn't just some idiot chasing a comic book pipe dream...He spoke two languages.

What Angeal saw in Zack was far from a liability—a kid with a disability, hitting it up anyway.

He stopped Zack in the hall.

"At Attention…" Zack shot up straight. "Where are you going?"

"The Medical Review Board."

"Why are you crying?"

"They want to kick me out. They think I lied to them."

"Did you?"

"…"

Angeal peeled his eyes to slits. "Why do you want to be in SOLDIER?"

"I wanted to prove to people that I wasn't weak, that I could do anything. I wanted to prove it to myself. I wanted to stand here so that no one could say I couldn't, and get more out of life than anyone else ever did. I wanted to feel the pride of a SOLDIER, of a _First_, a hero."

"It takes more than pride to become _First_," Angeal had said to him what really was a long time ago now. Instead of smiling in triumph with his chest puffed out, Zack had choked back childish tears.

"Whatever it takes I've got it. And if I don't got it I'll get it! I will fulfill my dreams, and I _will_ become a hero."

That beautiful fire shone in his eyes with a fluorescent fury Angeal knew he would never see again. He turned down the hall, a decision made.

"Very well, then you have my support…" A glance back at Zack, who stood dumbfounded. "Well come on. Let's go tell the review board what pinheads they are and get ourselves both fired."

Angeal's slick talking earned him a pay-cut, which was actually a pay-raise because he'd lied about how much they paid him to begin with, and a new apprentice.

Now, out in some godforsaken wilderness next to his slumped comrade, Zack ran a hand over his face.

"Man, I'm probably killing you quicker of boredom listening to me ramble on like this…"

But Cloud's half-dead hand shot to Zack's arm. The truth, Zack's memories kept him going.

They couldn't stay put long. They had to move, though Cloud remained in a state of delirium on Zack's shoulder.

"Tifa will be there," Zack reassured. "She was alive when I found her in the reactor. I know she'll be smart enough to head to Midgar."

That little glimmer of hope shot a mad energy through Cloud, and he trudged on past the brink of death.

The bad days for Cloud passed like bad dreams, but on good days, Cloud would fall right in step with Zack, who had already started his training. He taught Cloud infiltration techniques he'd use to cover their tracks, explaining how to fool battle parties with cunning and wit. He told Cloud that to defeat one enemy is to defeat ten thousand, and that even fighting one hundred foes was the same as having one hundred consecutive one-on-one matches back to back. Hard but not impossible. As long as Cloud understood the way of absolute truth, he'd never be defeated.

Zack showed him the first sword technique he'd ever learned, the basic drawing cut. In a single swipe he cleaved a young sapling in half. Nice clean slice.

_"One hit_. Simple. Now you try."

He offered his sword to Cloud, who was taken aback. Zack…offering _his _sword…to _him_? It was a long moment before he worked up the nerve to accept. Cloud took the hilt, and the sword brought him straight to the ground.

Staggering, he couldn't fail in front of Zack! He had to get this sword up somehow. He threw his entire body weight into flinging the massive hunk of metal at the sapling, only to spin wide and miss by a mile.

But Zack caught Cloud before he could fall, wrapping him up from behind and grabbing the sword hilt to guide him.

"Come on, Cloud. Use the power of SOLDIER. You know you have it in you."

Zack steadied the blade, his hands over Cloud's as his student struggled in fighter's stance. Sweat streamed from the younger man's brow, he grit his teeth like biting leather, and his knees knocked like earthquake rods. His whole body shook in tectonic spasms as Zack eased his grip away from Cloud's hands, ready to shoot them back in a twitch. But when the sword remained level, Zack gaped in awe.

He was holding it up…all by himself.

They traveled together for what seemed like years, though maybe only months had passed. Both were too target fixated on getting home to care how long it took. They saw signs of civilization, small towns that dotted the landscape, and kept far clear. Shinra would have sentries posted in every mining colony between there and Galbadia. But their travels would see them emerge from dense wilderness into dangerous open territory as the far outskirts of familiar land came upon them.

The Midgar Wastelands, they were almost home.

But this was risky. Now cover was scarce and they couldn't travel by night as their heat signatures would be spotted in an instant by drone cameras. They chanced their luck through a boulder field known as Pinnacle Rocks. Staggering with Cloud's arm draped over Zack's shoulder, they trudged through desolation toward demise with Angeal's words ringing deep in Zack's heart.

_The price of freedom is high, but SOLDIER's have always paid it. A path we will never choose is surrender or submission. Death before dishonor._

Zack never let Cloud fall. He carried him the entire way. When Cloud stumbled, Zack caught him, but when Zack stumbled, it was only Angeal's voice that kept him going.

_Deliberately, and with a patient spirit, absorb the virtue of honor, from time to time raising your hand in combat. Maintain this spirit whenever you cross swords with an enemy. Step by step walk the thousand mile road. _

And they walked, forever it seemed. Cloud recovered some strength in time, and was even able to manage some light leveling against small monsters for old time's sake. Cloud and Zack made one heck of a team.

But one evening as they stared out West against the sunset, their destination laid out in an imaginary line before them, Cloud mentioned a thought to a zoning Zack.

"Hollander's still out there."

"Fuck him," spat Zack, which startled Cloud. "Let him die in some third world backwater gutter. It's Hojo I want."

He clenched a gripping fist, rage pooling in the back of his throat. The flashbacks came in flareshots of all the torture, and a hunched little man with a greasy ponytail like Dr. Frankenstein himself leering the entire time. He'd find the sick psycho, and make him pay, and when he did…Zack would have his revenge.

"Are you okay, Zack?" Cloud asked, which snapped something terrible out of him. Zack whirled in his mind, coming back with tears welling in his eyes. Sheer rage left him, that scared him as it went. He hadn't been himself for a moment. A small grin back at Cloud, a reassuring nod, and they continued on.

There had to be a better way across the expanse, and the solution dawned on Zack as they came upon a dirt truck road. Well, there was one way not to leave a heat signature. They camped out for three days in the shade of some rock outcroppings before a dust cloud and the sound of a sputtering engine echoed in the distance.

Zack leapt out into the desolate road, desperate to wave down a passerby, when a beat-up old pick-up slowed to a halt. Zack ran over to meet the driver with a wide smile—an older gentleman with a straw hat and farmer drawl.

"Hey buddy, me and my brother are trying to get back to Midgar. Mind giving us a lift?"

"From all the way out in these wastelands? Where you boys coming from?"

"Eh…" Zack didn't have a story prepared, but at this point, any creative lie from two drifters way out there would never fly. What could the truth hurt? "Well honestly, we're coming from Nibelheim."

"Lollapalooza! That's far away."

"Yeah, you're telling me. We walked most of the way."

"Holy Hanners! You kids military?"

"Sorta. We kinda got into a pickle on our last deployment."

"If you're talking about that big incident up there, you're in a whole jar of pickles."

"I'll say. Hey, would you mind telling me the date?"

"September 9th."

"Oh wow. That's good. We've only been out a few months."

The driver stared hard at Zack over the rims of his sunglasses.

"…Kid, it's been _four years _since the Nibelheim Massacre."

Zack gasped, his whole body whirling. He took a step back trembling.

"…Said a couple kids done it, a tall guy and a fella with spikey hair." The man bore into him like he knew a terrible secret, prompting Zack's hand toward his sword. But after a moment, he took off his shades to peer at the SOLDIER in front of him.

"I never liked them corporate bastards. Get in."

Zack blinked, and a smile returned from ear to ear as he saw a bumper sticker of his name.

They ended up riding in the truck bed, with Cloud slumped over in a woozy sleep from the lingering sickness. Zack gazed up at an azure sky devising their plan.

"There's a bunch of anti-Shinra groups in Midgar. I know the passcodes for all the reactors I can barter for our safety. We'll hide out with them until we get our girls, then bail from Midgar all together! We can make for Lindblum or Alexandria! These are the oldest cities in the world, still run on steam with no alliances to Midgar. They'll give us asylum and we'll live happily ever after!"

The gleam in his eyes made him feel like a young 2nd again, carefree and under someone else's protection from the world. But the sweet rush was short-lived, a bump in the dirt road jolting him back to reality with a sigh.

"We would just be immigrants in a big new world, going from one slum to another. Heh, we don't even speak the language."

A sick, familiar memory played in Zack's subconscious, echoing in his soul.

_Where would we run to, Zack? Where would we go?_

A thought occurred to him—_Don't stop. _Keep going, away from Midgar, to anywhere, forever. They wouldn't need names, they could keep living like this. They would never have to face the impending monster that loomed on their horizon. Could they really do it? Could they keep running?

He pushed the thought far out of his mind.

"I need to go back. I need to know if Aerith still waits for me." Zack pulled a small velvet box from his pocket, and flipped it open to find the garnet and gold band still gleaming up at him. "And if she doesn't…Then I just want her to be happy."

Replacing the ring in his pocket—thank god for zippers and indestructible micron-fabric—he gazed out into the setting sun with a swift thought crossing his heart, a silent wish cast into the fading light.

…_There's another one out there. Wherever you are, stay safe until I can get to you. I'll come for you. I promise._

He knew how to find her too, just ask around for someone using the last name _Crescent. _

A rock ricocheted against the truck window and Zack screamed. He shot like a cat into the corner, shaking with blurred vision. People and places flashed before his eyes, and his body was wracked with sensation. It took him a moment to come back, to calm down and get his bearing. He had problems now. He was probably going to need help for the rest of his life.

Zack caught his reflection in the rear window. He still looked exactly the same, but age showed through his irises in blue diffusion. Zack Fair, a _mid-_twenty-something guy with boots that had earned their dirt in the war, and ocean eyes that gleaned of experience well beyond their years. That scar across his cheek had healed up, but it would always be there now, to remind him.

He glanced back at a sleeping Cloud, but this time, really looked at him. His squared, androgynous jawline, his rounded shoulders and torso that no longer struggled to maintain muscle build, his worker's hands built perfect for holding a sword, all fit so right in the black uniform that matched Zack's own. Zack realized that no one had injected him with anything at Nibelheim. He'd just…grown up.

He saw the fine young man Cloud turned out to be after all, and the phenomenal SOLDIER that he would have become even without Zack's guidance. But a pang in his heart nearly brought him to tears, thinking of all the years and experiences that Cloud missed in the process.

Children have a right to grow up on their own terms, to learn the lessons that shape who they are and become who they're meant to be. That they took that away from Cloud killed Zack.

A glow in his eyes, and a warm feeling as a realization crept across his heart.

_He's my little brother. _

He smiled then, really smiled. The sheer joy that erupted in the core of his being was indescribable, overwhelming, changing him forever. He reached over to ruffle Cloud's hair, eliciting a groggy groan from him. Zack chuckled in glee, messing with his kid-bro.

A song came on the radio that Angeal would have liked, that horrible retro funk. But Zack sat listening this time, and decided, you know, maybe he could see the appeal.

_We didn't start the fire._

_It was always burning since the world's been turning_

_We didn't start the fire._

_No we didn't light it but we tried to fight it. _

A few more hours brought them to the inner cusp of the Wastelands, and the epic industrial silhouette of Midgar City reared in the distance for the first time in forever. A news clip broadcast on the iPad the driver had propped on his cup-holder, and Zack recognized the familiar architecture of the Shinra Headquarters building that had become a dark shadow on his soul. Thousands of citizens marched around the outer gates holding angry signs and chanting.

_DON'T FEED CORPORATE GREED! DON'T FEED CORPORATE GREED!_

A cold building dread rose up in Zack's core, but he pushed it back with great effort. Now was the time for clear thinking and decisive planning.

"Where you kids want me to drop you off?" the old driver called out, and Zack stuck his head through the open rear window.

"Here's good. We can hot-foot it the rest of the way in."

"Like hell if I'm letting you _hot-foot _it anywhere! Where you going to?"

"In that case, Sector 5 Slums."

"You got family there?"

A pause. Something wonderful struck Zack, a feeling so overwhelming he had to catch his breath.

"Yes…yes I do."

They hit paved roads and coasted onto the highway, Zack and Cloud lying flat under some tarps. The driver took the first exit before hitting inner-city.

"I'm ducking off the Expressway, taking the side streets from here. They'll drop us straight off into the Sector 5 Slums. Don't wanna risk anyone seein' us, if you know what I mean. I don't know what kind of trouble they pegged you boys with, but I'll be darned if I just sit back and—"

A bullet smashed his windshield, striking him right between the eyes. The truck swerved off the road, careening out of control. Cloud and Zack were thrown clear from the vehicle amid a rain of bulletspray.

_Ambush_.

They toppled across the ground to see Shinra troops posted up on overhangs and rooftops. They'd been waiting for them. Zack grabbed Cloud and ran for dear life into the midst of the Slum outskirts. He shoved Cloud on and drew his sword, whirling it to block bulletfire. Cloud leapt over a concrete divider and fired his rifle back at the oncoming wave of troops, providing suppression fire for Zack as he retreated after him. Helicopters overhead scanned the area with searchlights, panning over razor wire fences for concentration camp escapees.

They ran like dogs on the loose through an abandoned railyard that Zack recognized from a simulation—The Train Graveyard. Ricocheting bullet rounds at their feet proved that this was no simulation. They ducked behind railcars in a mad frenzy, catching their breath, a crazed fire like pursued game animals in their eyes. They were weak and immobilized, big cats in a canned hunt, the dogs of war closed in all around them.

Another helicopter swooped overhead, pouring a spotlight down on them as they dashed out for more cover. A loudspeaker blared in their wake.

"Zack! It's us! We're not your enemy!"

Sonofagun. Of all the voices that could have played God, Reno's rang loud and clear. But one thought leered in Zack's wild mind.

_Traitor. _

They ran on. The B1 Alpha followed as other Apache choppers caught wind and closed in on their location.

"We're not kidding, Zack! Get to a place where we can pick you up!" Reno pleaded. But steel construction girders in their flight path forced them to bank around. The Apaches with their superior maneuverability had no problem out-flanking them.

Rude spat from the co-pilot seat. "We can't get to him."

"We have to! Who are we going to give all Aerith's letters to if he's dead?"

Zack and Cloud kept running, toward Mako Reactor 1 that loomed in the distance like some dark homily. The Apache helicopters drew a bead on the two runners, when the B1 Alpha swerved into their flight path. Reno and Rude harassed the Infantry choppers, disrupting their targeting computers that couldn't get a straight lock on Zack and Cloud. A frequency the Turks used jammed the Infantry radio-signal, and orders couldn't get through over the static.

The Apache's gunner got pissed and fired rockets at the B1 Alpha. Zack saw the Turks' chopper go down. Maybe they were friends after all, but it was too late for their help now.

Infantry troops swarmed in like a sea of army ants. Zack sword flew into motion, flurrying to keep them at bay amid his flank's cover fire. An impact on the back of Cloud's head knocked him to the ground. He turned in terror, throwing his arm up at the sight of a rifle bearing down on him. A fervent cross-slash ripped through the trooper as a tall guardian stood over him. Cloud gasped.

Zack's wings appeared in Combat Mode, flaring indigo in the pulsating auralence of rage. _Trance_. His body glowed, his stats shot through the atmosphere, and for a swift moment he was invincible. A single arcing Heaven-slash took out one hundred guards as Zack streaked across the ground like a comet tail. With a scream of war he bash-flared his blade through battalions of infantrymen, dashing in zigzagging lines all over the battlefield. The sharp edge of his sword cast a layer of blood on the ground that soaked into the earth in a morbid mud. He leapt to the sky with a phenomenal beat of his wings, straight-slicing through an Apache helicopter to make it bank over into its twin chopper. The crashing blaze of glory from its tail spin took out another whole battalion.

Zack sprinted in the industrial null of hazelight, racking up a kill count to legendary levels. The voice of his mentor resounded in his heart.

_CONSENTRATE! _

He shot to focus as bullets flared all around him, deflected by his whirling sword. A jump-spin sent rows of enemies flying into rear detachments. A second, sardonic voice smirked in Zack's subconscious.

_Tsh, is that the best you've got? _

A mad energy shot through him, a beaming light against the throes of the Shinra Army. They came in troves, they fell in waves. They dove from the sky, they died at his feet. Zack Fair, SOLDIER 1st Class. Many mentors had helped him along the way, and he'd surpassed them. He proved with every slash that of all those who came before him, he was the greatest. Right there, Zack found out what honor meant to him. _His family. _Honor is the one thing you have that no one can take away, and they can kill your family, but they can never take them away.

How far to Sector 5? An hour by train? Half an hour if he ran? 5 minutes if he flew? 5 minutes away from the girl who owned his heart, the woman he was going to spend his life with. Even now Aerith Fair waited for him, crying in a bed of marigolds next to a dead chimera, weeping quicksilver tears.

The indigo aura flickered out, and Zack's wings disappeared. The Trance had run its course. Zack couldn't even lift his sword. Exhausted, fatigued beyond worlds, five guards remained. His eyes flew wide as they raised their rifles.

A rain of bullets ripped into his skin, throwing him to the ground. Fire so hot like white irons tore through his body as he choked on bits of lung. He reached his threshold of raw panic, and couldn't grasp the world around him.

Footsteps, someone walked into his line of view, someone familiar…A boy with piercing blue eyes and blonde spikes that shot to the sky. SOLDIER? No, just a Shinra Guard. Zack realized the horrifying truth…They'd _programmed _him. It was fitting. You spend your whole life watching your back when the deathblow comes from in front.

He looked up at someone he'd shared everything of himself with, his dearest friend, staring down the barrel of that rifle that had come with them the entire way, and a single last thought escaped his lips.

"I love you."

A click of a firing pin, a nanometer away from ignition, when a young man with Mako eyes fell over Zack and shot the boy right between the eyes. The Shinra Guard fell dead as Cloud unloaded half a clip into the few remaining troops with a scream of war. With rifle slung over-shoulder, he grabbed a wounded Zack with all his strength, carrying _him _now.

But Zack was 6'2" 210lbs, Cloud was 5'8 149lbs. It wasn't happening. Cloud toppled back to the ground as Zack wheezed on his back.

"Zack, get up! You can't lay here!"

Cloud shook him to no avail. He heard the next wave of patrollers assembling over the razor wire. Desperation rose in his throat.

"Zack, the Goddess. Use the Gift!"

"I can't…I'm out of…magic."

A horrific realization dawned on Cloud, an epiphany so profound and austere that it pierced the ground he knelt on. You can be the wealthiest, wisest, best looking, most famous and powerful human being on the planet, and in the end, you can still be out of magic.

The second wave opened fire as Cloud shook Zack in a frenzied panic.

"Zack you can't die here! Not like this! SOLDIER 1st Class Zack, ON YOUR FEET!"

Zack's pupils constricted. Something deep in his core activated. Shooting up with an arm over Cloud's shoulder and his sword in one hand, he and Cloud dashed to the reactor.

He ran 87 steps.

They toppled down in a heap inside the reactor's main bay, where the core loomed like a volcanic neck down into the Mako chamber. Bullets followed as Cloud dashed back and dropped to a knee. He aimed a steady shot at the door eyelet, fired, and the blast doors zipped shut with magnetic locks.

He'd done it! A smile crossed his face as he clamored back.

"We'll be safe now, Zack."

But Zack's breaths came out shallow, and Cloud stopped. Soft worry etched his expression as he knelt over him.

"…Zack?"

Cloud spoke in a quiet lull as a looming light seemed to settle over them, casting a soft sweeping halo around Zack's body. His eyes no longer tracked light, but zoned in the direction he heard Cloud's voice.

"Both of us," Zack whispered, and a trembling hand reached around the back of Cloud's neck. "…You're…going to live…for both of us."

He pulled Cloud's head to his chest, clutching him close to his heart. The blood rushed from Cloud's face as it rushed from Zack's body in a similar slow seep. Cloud's own breath failed as he realized all the doctors, mages and Sorceresses in the world would be of no help now.

When he let Cloud up, his other hand rose…holding the Buster Sword to him.

"My honor, my dreams, it's _you_. You'll be…my living legacy."

He nudged the sword toward him, and Cloud was taken aback. So many whirling emotions paralyzed his mind, but as Zack's hand struggled under the weight, Cloud shot out to grab it. He took the sword trembling, dazed, blurry-eyed, and it wasn't heavy for him. He gaped in awe as Zack struggled up at him, a hard look crossing his paling brow.

"Protect your honor, always. Find out what it means to you, and never let it go. One thing in return…" He let his head roll back against the cleated floor. He could think of no better hands to leave her in, no one more _sensitive _and _innocent_. "My wife…Tell her hi for me."

A spiritual dagger seemed to sheer Cloud's heart, and tears dribbled down his flushed cheeks like they would never stop. He didn't know why he pressed the sword hard to his brow as if in silent prayer, perhaps to hide his mottled whimpers, but Zack stopped him.

"No. You can't cry for me. I've wanted this for a long time."

A finality filled the vastness of the reactor, bathed in mechanical mist. Zack fought for consciousness with his last bit of strength.

"…Besides. I need you to cut the pipeline on North Hill. Take the Express all the way to the end. There's a Shinra warehouse there. Leave me your rifle."

But Cloud's eyes whirled as he unslung his firearm.

"I've only got one shot left."

"I'm gonna need it."

"NO!"

Cloud grabbed for him but Zack _shoved _him away.

"…Go!" he screamed at Cloud, who stumbled to his feet in tears. "GO!"

Too flustered to protest, Cloud cried as he ran with the sword out the emergency exit.

_go._

He slipped past the army through the pipeline gaps and came out right on the train platform, but the Express was taking off. Dashing like hell itself willed him, he leapt to the roof of the bullet train with his sword and held on until the last stop, where a warehouse with the Shinra logo lay unguarded—the guards were all at the Reactor.

Cloud bashed through the door with the Buster Sword and found a factory black Ducati G-Bike straight off the line waiting for him. He leapt on without thinking and threw his hand on the touch screen. The bike scanned his DNA signature against its personnel database.

_"WELCOME SOLDIER 1__ST__ CLASS ZACK FAIR."_

The 1100cc engine roared to ignition in jet propulsion, and squealed off to punch through the bay doors with Cloud having to duck and cover. The bike was controlled manually but had an auto-balancing function that picked up on what the rider wanted it to do. Cloud steadied as it slammed through a chain link fence out into the surrounding desert wastes.

_"Destination?" _asked the bike computer. Cloud knew he had to hurry. If the adrenaline rush wore off, he wouldn't be able to lift the sword.

"North Hill! Double-time!"

The bike blasted off at over 200 miles per hour as Cloud held on for dear life. Auto-nav switched to off-road, bee-lining for the foothill in the distance that propped up Shinra's pipeline mainframe. North Hill was the epicenter that Mako was syphoned out to communities without a reactor, maintained by an automated state-of-the-art maintenance system that kept the process flowing. If it was back-syphoned, that would spell disaster.

Cloud gunned the bike to its limit, riding the clutch over rock and rubble until it blew. The engine sputtered but charged up the slope of the hill in valiant defiance. When the rear wheel popped, it threw Cloud over the fairing, but he scrambled up anyway in a mad dash for the plateau.

The pipeline loomed like coiled snakes, dripping liquid Mako from cracks in their steel plating. In harrowing desperation, he flung the sword overhead and leapt into the air. No one showed him, no one had ever paid much attention to him. For Cloud to be a hero, he would have to be braver.

A single streaking Omnislash sliced through sixteen pipelines, exploding them sky high. Cloud was thrown clear off the mountainside slamming into rocks and boulders, as explosions ripped along the pipeline to Midgar. He toppled all the way down to level ground, bashed up and bleeding in cerebral contusion. He couldn't think, couldn't speak, minute movements failed him. He didn't remember his own name.

Vision blurred into focus in an upside down world. The silhouette of a city skyline in the distance pulled him from his delirium. He had to get back there. All he knew was that someone, somewhere, was waiting for him, and that the sword next to him was his.

He lifted himself, but his blade wouldn't follow. Grasping the hilt with both hands, he hoisted it with a monumental grunt onto his shoulder, carrying it like a cross, and left a lone drag line as he took heavy steps back toward the city that was home.

Zack bled waterfalls as he dragged himself up the stairs. He pulled his body to the control panel and typed the abort code in backwards. Already he could feel the pipelines quaking as the countdown began, and knew Cloud had succeeded. With the rifle's last shot, he blew the control panel. There was no going back.

_There is a fine line between justice and revenge_.

Sephiroth's voice reached him from a memory in his loft. He stood next to Zack at his Zen Garden, tracing flowing lines in the sand with a ceremonial rake.

_Fill your heart with hate, let it drive you toward your goal. When you attain that which you seek, your heart will still be full of hate—your hate will not heal you. In the end, revenge is something you do for yourself, while justice is something you do for others. _

He left the line unfinished, and handed the rake to Zack.

Now Zack stood before the Reactor Core as the Army and all their Mech's bashed through the doors. The countdown reached 1 as he threw his arms out wide.

"COME AND GET IT!"

He didn't feel the pulsing blast that threw him down, nor the searing heat that swept over the Reactor grounds. He didn't see the torching fire that engulfed the whole facility, or hear the freight-train roar of nuclear-charged flame walls that decimated the entire Shinra Army. When Zack looked up, all he saw was light.

The sun was rising.

From the open concept of the reactor, morning streamed in ruby rays from a red sky. Zack's body felt weightless, and his wings returned to him like the brush of flowers. A heavy burden vanished from his soul in pooling mist. And as Zack looked upon grey clouds, he saw white wings descending.

An angel flew down from on high, oil black hair slicked over a gladiator's brow and a smile that shone bright as Zack's own. Angeal had come to get him.

A beautiful epiphany crossed Zack's heart.

_Those wings. They were mine all along. _

The angel touched down in the core to take his student's hands. He lifted Zack like a feather, so light and flowing that his feet didn't touch the ground for a soft moment. Angeal gazed at him with those ocean eyes, pride gleaming from ethereal irises like they once had so long ago. With wings that brazed Zack's own, he pulled him in for a hard hug, holding him like a father holds his son. Zack said one thing to Angeal and cried, but not for himself. Men cry not for themselves, but for their comrades.

With Zack's hand on his, Angeal walked with him, guiding him across the threshold between worlds, to where a man with silver hair stood like a living star.

Waiting for him.

On the other side.

[Received Phoenix Pinion]


	58. Epilogue - Holy

As black dust clouds settled over the blown-out reactor, FEMA swarmed it with caution tape. Firefighting teams extinguished the blaze after a full 24 hours, and all that remained of the Shinra Army could fit in a basketball stadium. Shinra lost trillions of gil by the second, and that was fine by the oft-neglected Department of Urban Planning. No civilians had been harmed.

The Turks locked down the zone tight, air tight. Despite reports that no bodies had been found, they hadn't even started looking. But someone slipped through their perimeter, swift and soundless as a stray cat, like a street ninja in the dark.

The little Wutai thief skittered through the rubble, crying as she shoved debris aside. She dug through piping ash that burned her hands to pull out two things at last—a white Materia orb and a burned neckpurse protecting a little black box. Choking tears back, she ran into the night, down into the Slums to disappear forever.

Cissnei stood in shock while the press conference convened. She had been briefed on what to say, but how to say it? How to bring herself to recite the fabricated events pressed on folded paper in her hands? She wiped away her own tears, fought back a knot of nausea, and approached the podium.

Flash photography flickered in her face. Ravenous hoards of journalists roared up at her for answers.

_What happened? Why was the Army here? Who were they looking for? Why? _

Cissnei opened her mouth to speak, and her face contorted in pain.

"No comment."

She strode from the podium through the uproar of reporters, sealing her resignation. But not before one slipped a card for _The Spider_ into her pocket.

Tseng stood before the wreckage of the B1 Alpha watching Reno and Rude being carted away on life-support. He pinched the brim of his nose, contemplating the event that set this whole crisis in motion—when they'd rescued the Shinra Prince from Genesis' apartment.

No one could lay hands on royalty and expect to live, but Genesis had been cocky. The boy wouldn't dare speak a word against his mentor, stunned into cold silence. Nevertheless, a report landed straight on President Shinra's desk, and instantaneously people started dying.

A hit was put out on Genesis, but he'd already fled with the battalion of SOLDIER's he'd sweet talked Lazard into putting under his command. Triggered by the stress of impending annihilation, his degradation had advanced, and he'd pulled his desperate brother Angeal down with him.

Sephiroth was spared the sickness, but Shinra knew how to break him. They took the access codes off the data room. Now, even his son was dead.

Tseng whirled in his mind, flashing back to events after Modeoheim.

Zack had flown with the Turks in the Chinook Airbus, rocking back and forth on the floor. As the bay doors opened to receive a fallen operator, he'd helped lift the body bag onto the stretcher, and clutched its black edges as it wheeled off.

The Turks stepped in to grab him, to lead him away, and he fought them. Vicious and enraged he shoved their arms off as they all wrapped him up to restrain him. That's when they knew he was one of them. Rude respected a man who could match his own strength. Cissnei loved him from the moment she met him. Even Reno liked him. You don't share _preferences _with a guy and not bond somehow. Tseng had resolved to hide him, like he hid his own family if he had to. They held him fast as he thrashed feral in their grip, protecting their own.

"He's gone, Zack!" Tseng leapt in front of him, hands on his chest to calm him. Tseng broke his cold composure for a moment, a flash of rare emotion that stalled Zack's brining storm. "He's gone."

But Tseng saw the truth staring him down like the barrel of a Colt pistol, that it was Zack in that bodybag, and what they held back was his shell.

The post-mortem report after the crisis at the core was finalized and closed. Zack's mother received a check for $5 gil. This is how she found out her son was dead. The rest of his savings had been drained prior with a stolen bank card. It all went in cash to a girl in the Sector 5 Slums, courtesy of someone named Black Suit.

Midgar fell into a state of decay. What did anyone expect? All their heroes were dead. Loveless no longer brought in the economy-supporting revenue it once did, slipping from smash hit to cult status in part due to the atrocious ending. The Play House refused to rewrite it, despite lauding demand. A CGI movie was released that bombed, and finally a remake was announced, but fans held out little hope for anything more than a patched-together camp-fest with voice-acting.

The populace drifted, alive but not quite living in a broken Promised Land. What could give the people hope in an age of crisis? Time is the answer. Time fogs over blurry photographs, leaving snapshots of those who were left behind…

She stood upon the Valkyrie statue at midnight, shard lilac hair sweeping her Mako eyes. When the op code had come in over the loudspeaker at Shinra, she ran. Her mentor had taught her what Code: Zero Dark meant.

_It means I am dead, and that you're next. _

Pursued by one hundred Shinra Guards, she managed to fight them off on the train. Desperate, she fled straight to Sector 0 Slums, into Triad territory where Shinra wouldn't dare follow.

Now, her directives were fixed on one thing, B-Unit. All she knew was that _they _were being held captive in a bunker somewhere, tortured and barely alive if not dead already. She had to find them. As lightning flashed behind her, a red shoulder cape flared like blood proclaiming her promise to the sky. Through hell and highwater, she was coming…

The White Mage of Sector 5 stood outside a church in the Slums, ash rainfall dusting from a riot by the Wall Market. A snowsable hood draped over fiery auburn hair and wise iris eyes that had seen too much death to believe in honor. Her hand bore two items of virtue, a twisted staff carved from the wood of a young plum sapling, and a demantoid-garnet engagement ring from a man who would never return…

Far out, beyond the rolling Wastelands of Midgar, a young man with a Buster Sword rode atop a train.

_My name is Cloud, SOLDIER 1__st__ Class. _

[Received Silver Star]

**THE END**


	59. Preview

_Here follows a preview of "CRISIS: THE FINAL FANTASY VII NOVEL"_

* * *

Under the Plate, there is no light. Falselight falls from halogen gel-lamps affixed to a durasteel sky, crushed beneath the vast enormity of Midgar City's floating surface-layer. Here dark communities wend their way in culminated clutches of poverty, working to exhaustion in thermal reactors and regrouping in dingy cash-only dive-bars. Everyone did what they could, what they had to, to survive.

He was no exception, seated on his stolen Ducati G-Bike atop North Hill that overlooked the wasteland metropolis, like he always did whenever a route ran long. Something happened here once, and for the life of him, he couldn't remember what. For now, at least, he was content to contemplate in his gunmetal-black fatigues with a ball-bashing Buster Sword on his back. He stood a cursed prophet, a dark warrior, rending rays of lunar light through a shag of blonde spikes and piercing cyan eyes. A SOLDIER, but not anymore.

His phone rang. He whipped it out like a switch blade.

_"NEW SEAMLESS ORDER."_

He threw on his red delivery vest, kicked his bike into fifth gear, and rode the clutch down toward the Hell that was home.

"Welcome CLOUD STRIFE, SOLDIER 1st CLASS," his bike-computer scanned his heat signature.

Down the Interstate onto the Expressway, he weaved through inner-city traffic against the shadow of the Shinra Headquarters Building, towering like a colossus of failed industrial theory. Exit for Bedford-Nostrand Ave, and he descended into the slums of lowcity under the Plate.

The riverbed was a shortcut. He cut into the divider and rode along the dried concrete bottom. Then he realized his mistake too late as a chain pulled taught across his path, sending him flying from his bike. The symbol of three trilateral lattices flared in spray-paint on the ground.

_Triads. _

The rival gang members converged on a fallen Cloud, drawing swords, battle lances, halberds, glaives, and firearms. Cloud popped to his feet into combat-mode, and that big Buster Sword flew from his back to his hands.

They ran in with weapons swinging, and Cloud slashed in a beautiful elliptical arc to send the first three flying back against the riverbed wall. A split-second after, a tall and aggressive thug came right in on Cloud, slapping with the butt of his saber, then spinning it over full in a brutal thrust designed for a quick kill, a strong move perfectly executed.

Cloud's sword spun up counterclockwise in front of him, striking the thrusting saber in succession and driving the weapon's tip harmlessly above the striking line of its wielder's shoulder. A strong kick to the solarplexus and that guy was out of the fight-circle. Two more halberds charged in on him. He spun to the side and launched a blinding uppercut slice, deflecting both attacks. Then he reversed his body's momentum, dropped to one knee, back in line with his opponents, and thrust in low with a snap of his outstretched arms. His jabbing blunt-sided blade caught the first, and the second, squarely in the groin.

They dropped their weapons in unison, clutched their bruised parts, and slumped to their knees. Cloud leaped up before them, ready for any who would come next. He dived into a roll through a break in the circle, came up quickly, and downed a fourth opponent, who was concealed for a backstab surprise, with a backhand chop to the chest.

A gap opened in the ring of assailants. He scrambled to pick his bike up, hopped back on and gunned it out of the riverbed. Triads territory had expanded, an act of war. He'd take note and let someone who cared deal with it.

* * *

_Continue the adventure from Crisis Core: The Novel in "Crisis: The Final Fantasy VII Novel," a novelization of the original video game from Team Wingless. _

_Check out an on-going redraft of the original Crisis Core novel in "Crisis Core: Redux" _

_And forthcoming: "VERSUS: A FINAL FANTASY VII NOVEL" featuring the apprentices of Sephiroth and Genesis. _

_Check back for edits and updates._


	60. Dedication

In memory of the soldiers who didn't come home, and dedicated to the ones who did.

Thank you for your service.


End file.
